


Take Your Heart

by ChaosX97



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Crossover, Mystery, Superheroes, Team Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosX97/pseuds/ChaosX97
Summary: As the Guardian, Marinette is coming to accept her greater duties as Ladybug and wants to protect those she loves, even if it means keeping a greater distance from them. The day may come when she has to choose between one of her two lives.Adrien is seeing his Ladybug fade away while also trying to find his own place in the world. Perhaps the time has come to make a new story for himself. Where does he go, though, from where they stand.They may get more than what they bargained for when the Phantom Thieves arrive to target the fiendish mastermind behind a hidden mind-control scheme in Paris, leading to an unexpected alliance. Secrets are kept, feelings are revealed, and soon no one knows who is evil and who is righteous. For now, it's showtime!
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 32
Kudos: 85





	1. TYH - Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

Feeling the first chill of winter, Ladybug was a prisoner.

The sense of freedom rushing past was a sweet illusion while glimpses of reality came in glints from the metal tips of gothic spires and skyscrapers. Her breath escaped in warm puffs as the cold prickled upon her rosy cheeks, with adrenaline the collar choking her. The girl’s yoyo’s string became a chain pulling her in the direction only some secret, traitorous part of her guilty of human sin knew. As she arced to the apex of her leaps over the rooftops, the toy returned to her hand and she lashed it out again. The process would repeat, all her swings and flips mere steps.

There was something so similar between leaping above the heads and buildings of Paris as a superheroine and being a girl in love. Every direction could go on forever, no destination in sight. She could think she was in control, but she wasn’t. She could only be pulled in various directions, to wherever she needed to be.

Recalling her trademark weapon once more, Paris’s beloved hero landed upon a roof adjacent to the TV station. Her lithe, athletic form was a mere black dot before the bright screen. She rose to her full height with a sigh.

True ladybugs cared little for the cold, and this Ladybug lived up to her namesake, giving a slight shiver. Activity sent her blood racing to do the job a fluffy scarf of her creation and two mugs of hot chocolate should have done. The crisp chill so common for the holiday season was beginning to roll in, and a first snow worthy of Christmas stories was following.

Last month had rolled by so quickly. Now streetlamps and store windows were being arrested with lights. Below her feet were blares of holiday songs and cheer in a current one could be washed away in. A wry smile made it upon Ladybug’s face.

It would be so nice to just enjoy the season, maddeningly enjoyable or enjoyably maddening. 

A hero such as herself had other problems.

All she had for fond memories of November was the same Akuma that came day after day throughout the month. Aside from what lurked in her school, it was a true reminder to Ladybug that demons did exist. Its strength went beyond that of the standard fare that could pass for clowns at a child’s party with corny parlor tricks as superpowers. Each time it came for her, it did so with the fervor of an army in a single body. It craved destruction, ruin, almost on a new level of possessed. Ladybug had been in the business for the better part of her teenage life and she had no words for it. 

She cracked open her yoyo compact, choosing instead to rely on the words of others. The Ladyblog was always the number one source of hero and villain sightings. It was even beating out the normal news.

Her thumb scrolled down the screen. No word on the message boards…

No new headlines…

No live updates. It should have been a call to breathe easy.

Ladybug only sighed in defeat. “What am I even doing here…?”

The hero no longer had time for matters like this. It should be as outgrown as her ponytails. Her duty was not the only reason she was up there on that chilly rooftop, but it should have been. The girl turned to the object in her other hand.

A small box in pink wrapping paper with a red and black-spotted bow atop it.

If she didn’t do it now, then when?

Her foot, clad in her trademark suit, shifted. She turned and looked onto the horizon for his house. The house she could have found her way to even if blindfolded. True love or destiny or whatever would make it sound more romantic in the annals of history or the soap opera that got a hold of this cheesy chase.

Adrien Agreste’s house.

Simple enough, she thought. Just look for the largest fanciest house with a thousand and one windows with chandelier light emanating out. The one the homeless folk would scrape and climb the walls in jealousy of.

Ladybug moved to the ledge to free her yoyo again and fly off. Then, the screen changed behind her.

“People of Paris!” A voice as lemon-fresh and slick as scented hair-gel came out. She turned and saw the main speaking – someone with a coiffed set of combed hair and a leisurely suit like the male leads in those animated teen dramas she could not get enough of in her younger years. He was wearing a million-dollar smile, which was likely what said suit cost. 

“Struggling with your relationships? Got your eye on someone? Girls, are you convinced the guy is the love of your life, tied by the strings of fate?” 

The main hit the nail on the head three times in a row.

“Worried he’ll never look your way?”

With a sledgehammer. Ladybug winced.

“Fear no more!” He pulled his phone with the screen displaying a large heart and some cutesy wallpaper. “Presenting MakeLove! This remarkable app will help you find the connection you need! This app is the real deal! Prove you can create a connection with the person of your dreams! Love is possible between anyone!”

She sighed, letting the air out of her athletic frame. The girl whispered. “If only it were that simple…”

“…You’re telling me, bugaboo.”

Ladybug jerked around. The ice gathering on her feet had shattered in a sharp jolt. There in the classic leather suit with claw-like hands placing his weight leaning atop his pole and glowing green slits for eyes was her partner, Cat Noir. To anyone else, half in light and half in darkness, some would pass the kitty with trimmed claws as menacing. She would have laughed them off pointing to the goofy smirk and tossed the boy a ball of yarn to prove otherwise.

Tonight, she was in no mood for laughing. She faced him in full moving the present behind her back. “Cat Noir. Guessing you’re done with patrol. Have you spotted any Akuma?”

Cat Noir pouted, his eyes almost vanishing beneath his black locks. “What, don’t I get a ‘hello, kitty’ anymore?”

“If I get a status update, maybe…”

“This is why we need to be friends on social media. All the rage with the younger crowd.” He spun his pole and stuck it behind his head. Wrapping his arms around he took a sly saunter over to her. Ladybug kept a stone face. “Sorry, bugaboo, no Akumas needing company tonight. Just a sad little stray.”

His chest was in front of her face, almost as stone-firm, before he leaned in. Years of fighting and bouncing along rooftops did bodies good. There was no way she was that superficial.

“Why do you think that Akuma we’ve been fighting all month is so powerful?” She asked.

“Got me. All I know is I nearly lost a few whiskers.”

“Do you think Hawkmoth is finally stepping up his game?” Ladybug sank into the pile of snow forming at her feet again. “He has the deciphered Grimoire on that tablet. Maybe he’s learning more about his powers.”

“That, or he just found somebody THAT ticked off.”

Ladybug hummed. 

With a step away, Cat took a step towards. “So… unless you’re planning to invite that guy to a Christmas party, mind if I ask what you’ve got going on for the holidays?”

Ladybug walked away, another two steps. “I’m not and you can’t. You know that.”

He came another two steps. “Watch your step, my lady Scrooge, or you might just get some ghosts visiting you.”

“I’ve got bigger things on my mind.”

“All work and no play makes for a very dull Ladybug.” He leaned in from her right, a smirk on his face there for an instant before it fell. “That, and a very empty house.”

She brought her hand with the gift to her chest. The girl could swear she saw his feline-eyes, trained in the dark, glint at the sight of the lump in her hand. Ladybug scoffed under her breath and silently prayed. Cat Noir and his endless prying and looking for cracks in her walls would be the death of her, maybe literally.

He lit up like a Christmas tree, or the child who saw it on Christmas morning. “That a certain something special, for a certain someone special?”

“Maybe.” A hard yes or no would only encourage him, she’d learned.

“Is it a boy?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe is a baby needing love and care.” He leapt in front of her. “Should our love make it a ‘yes’?”

“No.”

This boy and his relentless questions! She would never tame him. Forget games. Games were what he wanted. 

Ladybug trudged over to the ledge where she’d hoped for a shot to end it before it began. Once the cat got frisky, it would take a long time before he’d take the hint and scamper off for that day. Three steps in and her face near bumped into his chest as a hard message that the game was still on.

Cat leaned in and swiped a paw at her right hand. “Methinks it’s for your knight in shining armor and golden holly. Since that’s clearly not me, you wouldn’t mind if I snuck a peek?”

“I do mind, as a matter of fact.” She snapped sneaking it behind her chest.

He slunk around and tried to swipe at it again. Whatever was in her hand was as enticing as a ball of yarn to him. Ladybug swore this boy had too many tendencies like his namesake. A stray thought that a bowl of milk might shut him up crossed her mind. The girl only turned and leapt away, for him to stay on like her shadow.

She had reached the ledge, as she’d hoped. But with a persistent kitty sharing precious foot space on the ledge.

“You know the way to make this end, bugaboo.”

Ladybug glared hard. “You either drop it or I do. Option one seems to be out, so…”

She jumped. 

Yoyo in hand she lashed it out at the chimney of a nearby building. Wind and frost screamed at her, pounding at her body as she swung down and up again in a stomach-wrenching drag of minutes. Her ears picked up the whirr of a pole, and turning, she saw him following, almost dancing with his own shadow amidst the buildings while he continued to play the role of hers. In a moment where their eyes crossed, she could swear she caught a wink.

The yoyo wrapped around the pipes of another building and she swing away. When her footsteps landed on the tile, his echoed them. He ran towards her only for her to lash ahead and zip by, not even sparing him a glance. Cat just shrugged and leapt with his staff pounding on the wall and vaulting to her side.

To anyone else, it was their classic highwire act, dancing and dodging like circus performers. They’d cross glances and paths along the rooftops, and in the moments they were close enough, he’d always be sporting a grin or trying to sneak a kiss. How nice it was for their whole city to be on the high wire while he flirted with danger and skated along the line watching it tip and sway. She sometimes didn’t think he noticed Hawk Moth watching maniacally from the bottom. 

Ladybug had kept the gift close to her chest the whole time, her brain on autopilot. But their game of cat and mouse had led them in a circle, right back before the jumbotron. The heroine breathed heavily, the air around her lost in a mist of adrenaline.

True to form, she’d heard him right behind her. Laughing, sauntering over, to pull another one of his tricks.

“Look, it’s my personal business, okay!” Ladybug shouted more forceful than intended.

There was silence for a moment, until…

“…This about that boy you like so much?”

The girl behind the mask was the one whose breath caught in her throat.

“…Well, I hope the guy likes it.” He chuckled. “If you ever give it to him, that is…”

Sound began to fizzle suddenly. They turned to see the large screen crackle and warp, turning to nothing, and spewing white noise like a crashing waterfall. The old image tried to retain form but was soon lost in the static.

“Uh, should’ve switched to satellite?” Cat shrugged.

Ladybug was about to groan at Cat’s poor joke and poorer timing, but caught voices coming through.

“…just like before, right?”

“… got the feed up, for crying out loud!”

“Can they hear us!?”

“No sense debating it now…”

The voices were arguing amongst themselves, in what Ladybug assumed to be a rushed prank by someone who knew their way with a computer. She tended not to dabble in the domain of the police, as her and Cat’s consisted of Hawk Moth and his villain of the day, the kind of thing flashy badges could not solve. Ladybug drew a sigh and prepared to take her leave.

Which was when she saw every screen in Paris, one by one, suffer the same affliction.

The jumbo screen behind them regained a single color – a deep crimson red, highlighting the red of her own suit. It still crackled with blackened spots. Ladybug and Cat Noir both caught the utter silence that now drowned Paris. Both the noise and cheery holiday music that once filled the streets below had vanished into a still quiet, with nothing but the shady whispers from before filling their ears.

Ladybug took a step back, clenching her yoyo. Her body sparked alive with a sense of danger from both her own body and the magic it had adapted to after so long.

“Bonjour, people of Paris!” A cheery girl’s distorted voice called.

“Your city of lights is truly a work of art.” A refined voice followed. “Beautiful beyond words.”

“We are here to warn you that all is not as peaceful as it appears,” spoke what sounded like a refined lady.

“Villains lurk beneath the surface. Criminals are in your midst.” Another young woman’s voice came. “It is our mission to reveal those who lurk in the shadows and bring them to justice.”

“It ain’t our usual stomping grounds, but we’ll do you guys a solid!” This time came a crass boy’s voice.

“We help the weak and crush those with distorted hearts!” Another young woman’s voice came.

At last, something else came into focus. Ladybug tried to make out an image as the icon warped in the same way the screen did before. It came into clear view with the sound of a cat’s meow: a mask with a flaming eye.

“We are the Phantom Thieves of Hearts!” One last voice came, the cool, mischievous voice of a young man.

“Coming to you all the way from Japan!”

“Complete with built-in translators!”

All at once, throughout the city, the song ‘Jingle Bells’ took new meaning. Both heroes turned below to the streets as their ears were pounding with a cacophony of ringtones and message alerts. People’s eyes were glued to their phone screens and chatter about the sudden announcement was quick to follow.

Ladybug flashed out her compact again. Social media was drowning with all the greatest hits of social media excitement. Posts were mostly the language of kids with ‘OMG!’, ‘WTF!’ and emoji after emoji made just to get a word out.

The cool man’s voice rang out once more. “To the criminals of Paris, this is our declaration of war!”

Ladybug looked to Cat Noir, his shocked face most likely a mirror of hers, and the words on his lips the same as well.

“What the heck is going on…? Is this for real?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

Counting back the days, Marinette could say the insanity started a week ago.

November was in its swan song, playing on repeat for a month with the fervor stores had for the holidays. Shopowners, including her parents, had wide smiles putting up signs for their sales and promotional events, Christmas being that special time of year for business owners. Windows and streetlamps were already being wrapped with holly and bells and carolers were readying their lungs for the sweet streets. Francois Dupont was just as much in the spirit of the season with wreaths on the stairways, merry tunes on the loudspeaker and a Christmas tree set and decked in every classroom. With the obvious exception of Ms. Mendeleiv’s classroom, of course.

It was just last Friday when Ms. Bustier came in with a red, cotton-tipped hat and filled it up with their names for the class Secret Santa. In their city with safety hinging on good cheer, little activities like that were all but mandatory. Marinette walked home that day like Jacob Marley post-life but content hearing the excited whispers of her classmates with who they got and who might be their secret gift-giver. She didn’t bother to check the name on the scrap she pulled.

Busy bug that she was, she would just make gifts for everybody. Simple enough.

Which was why her room was decorated as well. Her floor was a festive dogpile of scraps of paper and unrolled yarn completely obscuring the floor. Her walls were painted over with binder paper with extensive lists and approved designs thumbtacked. Any failures were huddled in her now overflowing trash can.

“Okay, next…” She said to herself.

The clock above her computer ticked louder. She was late for school; the girl knew it. Another tick, another tock. It was coming like thunder. She got the message already, if time could just be merciful for once. Marinette turned a knob on her sewing machine and pushed piece after piece of cloth through.

“Okay, just a few more stitches for Juleka’s scarf…” Marinette muttered pulling the black garment away and pulling out a pink set of matching gloves with a rose embroidery. “Now to work on Rose’s gloves, then I can get to Nino’s handkerchief, Kim’s cap, Alix’s scarf. Wait, did I take care of Mylene’s new beanie left? Where’s that bandana for Nathaniel…?”

Her eyelids drooped. The girl had lost track of the time somewhere after 2:00 in the morning. The strands of cloth in the finely crocheted scarf and mittens blurred into blobs of purple and pink.

“Guardian!” A squeaky yet sagely voice popped behind her.

“Just a second, Wayzz!”

“I don’t think the others are feeling very patient, young Guardian.”

Guardian… Marinette still wasn’t used to being called that.

With a sigh, she was forced to put down her current project. “Okay, alright, just… be right back.”

“Thank you, guardian!” The squeaky, mischievous voice of Trixx piped.

The girl nearly slipped on the layers of cloth on the floor and had to dig through them for the handle for her attic bedroom’s trapdoor. She’d just managed to catch fabric that had spilled from the side as she stepped down. Moments later, she was back with a full porcelain bowl of treats in her hands.

“Yay!”

A small army of smaller kwamis zoomed out of the spherical Miracle Box towards her. It took five to six kwamis to take the bowl from her hands and set it by them, grunting with noticeable effort.

Trixx dug for the grapes and munched on them greedily, while Wayzz and Sass found their own favorite treats. It made for a constant bite out of her savings to sneak off to the grocery store to get all those things. Not to mention the task of sneaking it all past her ever watchful and almost too considerate parents.

While the kwamis proceeded to eat their snacks and the bowl they came in, Marinette turned to the many lists on her wall. Her ever-growing list of commissions were what kept her from getting eaten out of house and home, though it made geeting the things she needed for more work difficult. Then there were the décor plans for the classroom beneath those. It was no problem, she said. Everyone should just let the class rep take care of it, she said.

She could clock herself with her own yoyo.

While she stared, lost in her many self-assigned tasks, one particular kwami floated beside her.

“You certainly have a lot to do these days.” Tikki noted.

“Tell me about it.”

Tikki giggled. “If I did that, you’d just yell and collapse. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

“That’s the price of a double life, I guess.” Marinette shrugged with a tired smile. “Always something to take care of…”

“I’m pleased you’re taking all of your responsibilities so seriously, Marinette, but there’s one I think you’re neglecting.” Tikki’s flipper-like hand tapped her on the nose. “The one you have to yourself.”

“I’m fine, Tikki. Really.”

“That’s what all my Ladybugs say. You realize you haven’t spent any time with your parents or friends in quite a while?”

“Well… kinda. That’s why I’m making these gifts extra special.” Marinette gestured to the gloves and other items.

“As an apology?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean… I should just get back to it.” Marinette returned to the table. “There’s too much on my plate.”

Tikki floated down and plopped on her charge’s shoulder. “So maybe you should think about what’s on your plate you can share.”

Marinette blinked, stopping. Slamming her palm on the desk, she scanned a nearby list of completed items, running through words in milliseconds. Sweat ran down her skin and her bags darkened the longer she went up and down the entries, over and over again. Her mouth drew wider, releasing a strangled gasp.

“What? What is it?” Tikki spoke. “…Marinette?”

“Adrien…” Marinette reeled back, screaming. “I forgot to make Adrien’s gift!”

She tore the papers from the walls, stripping layers until the original shade of pink came back into view. She had to be wrong – she wasn’t so engrossed in her work that she didn’t make a special gift for Adrien Agreste. Though looking over the papers one by one, she only went paler. Names upon names, clothes upon clothes, and there was nothing for one perfect blonde boy.

Screaming, she leapt from her seat, tripping on the scraps of her fabric on the first step. It was hard to believe the boy who consumed her every thought once upon a time suddenly got shifted to the backburner. Nursing the new bruise on the back of her head, she just wanted to add to the throbbing more. After all, what had happened to those sweet dreams of a beautiful house, three beautiful kids and a beautiful pet hamster? Moreover, what happened to her own career as a fashion designer, being a brand name in the apparel scene?

Marinette supposed she would just have to make ladybug-patterns iconic, because that’s what she would be wearing more often than ever. She wasn’t just Marinette Dupain-Cheng, normal girl with a normal life. There was nothing normal about being a magical superheroine and new Guardian of the Miraculous. That was it – her future was no longer hers, but it was a future that was worth it if it meant people she loved could keep on smiling. Those old dreams would just have to stay on the backburner.

Still, it would be nice after all this time if she could finally tell him how she felt… At least accomplish that. Then, if the fates believed in given and receive, find a way to make it work. That would be nice.

A jingle to the tune of Clara Nightingale’s ‘Miraculous’ song came from somewhere on her desk.

“Marinette?” Tikki floated before her face. “I think someone’s trying to call you?”

“Huh?”

Marinette righted herself and brushed aside the papers cluttering her workspace. Her phone was jingling louder and vibrating, with a perky pick of a glasses-wearing brunette flashing a peace sign. Marinette pressed call.

“Hey, Alya.” Marinette smiled, brushing her hair back.

_“So you are still alive.”_ The girl on the other end joked. _“After a severe lack of appearances in the outside world, I was wondering.”_

“Sorry about that. I’ve just been busy.”

_“Girl, that’s what they all say. By they, I of course mean hermits with a distinctly lacking love life.”_

Marinette pouted, blushing. “Excuse me, my love life is perfectly… fine. In fact, I was just about to make Adrien a gift.”

_“Oh, no! You’re up to your armpits in projects. If this keeps up, you’re bound to blow a gasket!”_

_KA-ZAP!_

_“Like that.”_ Alya muttered.

Marinette nervously turned on her heel. Alya had a sixth sense in terms of the inner workings of Marinette’s life. She had probably picked up on Marinette’s sewing machine blowing a fuse and smoking. Marinette stammered for words, while wondering in the back of her mind how she hadn’t been sniffed out as Ladybug yet.

_“Hey, don’t get me wrong Mari, it’s totes awesome you’re getting going with your designing. Not like I’ve had as much luck with the Ladyblog.”_ Alya’s pride and joy, Marinette mused as her friend shifted to anger. _“I mean, they’ve been fighting that same wacked out Akuma all month and they still manage to go AWOL. I’m starved for new content!”_

“Can’t you just post some Cat Noir meme? It’s not like he doesn’t crave attention.”

_“What, do you know him or something?”_

Marinette yelped and nearly dropped the phone in her panic. She juggled it back into her grip. “I-I mean, what? Isn’t he the type to do that?” She forgot Alya could be shrewder than the average girl.

_“Uh-huh… Well, anyway, I’ve already got plans for a new theory video. I was hoping I could get help on it?”_

“Sorry, Als.” Marinette sat back down shuffling through papers again. “I’m still getting Christmas gifts done.”

_“I’m guessing you’re hoping to get lucky with the Secret Santa at school or something?”_ Alya spoke knowingly.

“Nope, just trying to be a good Samaritan, as always.”

Although, getting lucky with the Secret Santa would be a bonus in her book. Marinette had armor-plated her heart and said it didn’t matter at the time, but the birthday scarf fiasco did sting a little. It was the closest she ever got. What was hurting more were those chances for a perfect whirlwind romance becoming fewer and far between.

_“Marinette, don’t make me beg. It goes against my code!”_ Alya begged anyway. _“Can you just take a break and lend a BFF a hand?”_

“I really am sorry, Alya…” Marinette sighed. “This isn’t the kind of thing I can just put down…”

Alya went silent on the other end. Marinette gulped silently. Maybe Alya had hung up, maybe this was the last straw after weeks upon weeks of ditching.

_“Okay, don’t say I didn’t try to do this the easy way…”_ Alya spoke in that sinister tone she made when poking at Marinette’s most vulnerable spots. _“Word on the old grapevine is that Adrien’s busy getting ready for the winter edition of his dad’s brand magazine.”_

“Yes I am well aware.” His schedule wasn’t still on her drape for nothing.

_“Are you also aware that he’ll be working with some model from overseas? I hear **she’s** a real looker.”_

Marinette yelped, blood going as cold as ice. It was all the makings of a magic formula that was the cornerstone of cheesy romance films. Adrien meets a girl in his line of work, they come from different worlds but defy all odds. Because they have the same job, there was the addition of multiple sightings and the multiplication of feelings, along with the subtraction of outside distractions. She was hoping that her goal of being a fashion designer meant she would be one of those variables – this foreign girl threw all the math off balance.

What if that old goal on the backburner was now to be taken off the stove by someone else? Adrien would now soon be living in a different country in a penthouse with three bilingual children and a pet koi fish. The girl would be lucky if he’d even spared a glance from the airplane that would whisk him away. Soon enough she’d be peddling her failed old rags on the streets to hairless alleycats or singing ‘Joyeux Noel’ with her friends in rehab wondering what might have been.

“GAAAAHHHH! DON’T BUY THAT KOI FISH, ADRIEN! I REFUSE TO DESIGN FOR HAIRLESS CATS!!”

_“Aaaand she’s back. Hope to see you before first breaks’s over!”_

“WAIT! IT’S THAT LATE!?”

Her head swung like a wrecking ball towards the clock, screaming after looking at its hands on dreaded number 11. Marinette tore her desk apart knocking books to the floor and stuffing a random handful into her limbs. It was a good five minutes before she discovered her backpack buried in mounds of yarn. Stuffing the books into her pack she jumped out the trapdoor.

_“Forgetting something?”_ Alya’s voice called from her still-active phone on the desk.

Marinette shot back up the steps and pocketed her phone, ending the call in the process. She leapt back down again.

“Marinette?” Tikki piped. “Something else?”

Again, she ran back up. This time, she grabbed her school tablet which had been near her defunct sewing machine. The kwamis, watching their new Guardian lose her head and laughing all the while, gave her a giggling good-bye. Tikki had to do it once she saw Marinette was running downstairs for a quick snack and out the door.

“Oh, Marinette…”

* * *

Despite being held back another day from school, Adrien still found a smile on his face, albeit a small one. For once, his empty house, white as the ghosts that haunted it with its marble floors and walls icy cold to the touch, had some colors. He reached into a box by his feet, filled with golden dusted Christmas ornaments, setting them one by one on the branches, breathing in the artificial pine.

It was small and had white pine needles to give the house that wintery feel, as if his house needed that more. However, a Christmas tree was still a Christmas tree, and it had taken no small amount of begging and bargaining with his father to even get the credit card needed to purchase it. The lights adorning it were just a plain set with uncolored lights, but they matched the balls, stars, and small angelic figures. Plus, unknown to the adults in the house, he’d gotten the special set that blinked in repetition to Jingle Bells. He’d just have to be sure to keep the switch hidden, although the boy was sure Natalie or his father wouldn’t look up from their tablets.

At the very least, it breathed a frosty breath of life into his home that had been lacking for quite a few holidays past. Late at night, when his father retired, he could sneak downstairs and watch the lights twinkle. Adrien hoped that, while his father was sorting through business in his study, he could get a sneak peek.

He reached for the button at the base of the tree. Adrien sneaked a glance at his father in the other room. Sure enough he was still sorting through documents. At least he was handling business at home instead of flying around the world.

The boy had just gotten the switch in his hand.

“Adrien, I’d like a word.” The emotionless tone of his father came out.

He heaved a sigh and walked in. There was never room for argument with that voice, but Adrien had hoped to make his case. After all, he did have other things he needed to do, and his father had to have some Christmas spirit in him. Right?

Adrien gave a nod and wave to Natalie. His father’s secretary was glued to her tablet, scrolling at mounds of text and lost in her own world. His father was no different, swiping his fingers away at his screen. With how engrossed he was, in his constant business attire of a suit and ascot with his pupils lost behind glasses reflecting the screen, you’d think Christmas didn’t exist. His face was as rigid as ever, lines carved as if out of ice.

Adrien nevertheless stepped across the checkerboard floor, his small steps making echoing cracks in the stone. As always, he rubbed the cool metal of his ring to shake strength out. Gulping it down, he drew a breath.

“Father… I know you wanted to speak to me about something important today, but there’s something important I need to do as well.” No response, Adrien thought with a sigh. “The school is preparing for Christmas and they’re really counting on my help to get the decorations and everything set up. There’s only a few days left before December and they want to-“

“We need to discuss the upcoming winter campaign.”

Adrien stopped short. This time, his father hadn’t even justified attention. The young model gave a silent growl.

“This will be an important step forward for the Gabriel brand.” He spoke without looking up. “For the past few months I’ve been preparing for a collaboration with some well-known designers. Their works have been featured in well-known magazines here in Paris and they have stores in both the U.S. and Japan. This move will be a good publicity boost as well as allow us to open our own stores in those territories.”

Adrien blinked. “That’s great, father, but-“

“Of course, you will be doing photoshoots and fashion shows throughout the month.” He lifted his head to look at Adrien, in a tone that wanted no argument. He did hear. “You will have to take an extended leave of absence from school.”

“I’ve already notified his teachers.” Natalie spoke from behind. “Everything has been cleared.”

Adrien turned so fast between them he near got whiplash. “But father-“

“You don’t have a choice.”

“But my friends-“

“-Will have to understand that you have an obligation to your work and to the Gabriel brand.” Gabriel Agreste spoke without blinking. “Do not make me say it again, Adrien. This is not up for debate.”

Adrien clutched his ring hand with his other, looking down.

Seeing no further resistance, Gabriel returned to his screen. “As part of the collaboration, you will be working closely with their daughter, who has garnered some popularity as a model herself. Her name is Ann Takamaki.”

The name had struck Adrien as familiar. Ann Takamaki had not been active for very long but through a golden deal of genetics, opportunities, and word of mouth she had become something of a rising star in the industry. He had scanned her face when she’d scored herself some TV interviews as his father was looking out for the competition. This girl had supposedly scored a quick succession of major brand names in Japan from clothes to accessories. Offhand, Adrien could say she was something of an exotic beauty but not much else came to mind.

The boy was shaking files in his head for further information on the girl with quadruple knots forming in his stomach. Whatever request he’d wanted to make had died before it was even really born. It would only have caused problems for his father, so it shouldn’t have been that important.

“This collaboration was an important condition for this collaboration.” Gabriel raised the evil eye that sent an unnatural chill down his spine. “I trust that you will be cordial with her and do your best for the company’s sake.”

“Yes, father…”

His father gave a silent nod, the telltale sign that their daily interaction was done. Adrien bowed and left the room – powerwalked, really. As soon as the double doors closed, his original complaint returned to the forefront of his mind.

Adrien turned to voice his concerns again but was greeted with a large polished wood reminder.

Sighing, he walked shoulders hunched up the steps sliding his hand on the cold rail. He found himself in his room where a wreath or two was on the walls and a tiny Christmas tree was by his bedside, wrapped in red and green lights. It was decent enough for a household where Christmas spirit was essentially on life support.

Adrien sat on his bed and opened his drawer for a few decorations he’d saved from his youth when his mother was still around. When there was a family living in this house. The paint on the bulbs was chipped and flaking, and some handmade ornaments were missing parts. He smiled when their strings held on the branches and they still glowed in the morning light.

His black kwami flew from underneath the opposite bedside. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

Adrien only shrugged. “Does it ever?”

“Not really. I’m betting even Christmas ghosts think your dad’s a lost cause.” The kwami shrugged.

“Come on, Plagg. You know he has a lot to do.” Adrien murmured hanging ornaments. “I’m used to this.”

Plagg face palmed. “Look, just forget this photoshoot and the magazine and what’s-her-name. If you wanna go to school, and I still don’t know why you do, then go. To. School.”

“I can’t, Plagg. I’ve been taking too many liberties lately. I need to help my father.”

The ornaments in his hand were now chastising him with their shoddy appearances. Like father, like son, it seemed when Adrien had the epiphany that hero work and normal life outside of this old mansion were prying him away from family as well. It was nothing short of a Christmas miracle that his father was even here. It coated his insides with the dripping of slime as he grimaced. His finger pricked on a pine needle punishing him further for absentmindedness.

His father needed this, his support. Adrien could just call it his Christmas present. The best gifts in his opinion were the ones you didn’t need to wrap, anyway.

Plagg floated down to his shoulder. “Kid, sometimes you are too nice for your own good…”

“Oh, really?” Adrien quipped.

The boy reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small lump wrapped in red paper. By some miracle of science, the stench didn’t leak out. His kwami locked onto the moldy-shaped gift and latched onto it for dear life.

“But that works for me!” He cackled flying back into his hiding space to enjoy his gift.

Adrien shrugged smiling. He reached for his pant pocket and pulled out his phone. A few button presses later and he was greeted with his glasses and cap weaking life of the party best friend.

_“Dude, Adrien!”_ The boy called, his laid-back tone crackling with energy. _“Sup?”_

“Hey, Nino. Sorry, but I won’t be able to make it to school today. Could you go ahead and tell everyone else?”

Nino’s laid-back grin went flat with sympathy. _“Oh, man. Don’t tell me daddy dearest has got you working triple-time as a pretty boy again?”_

“Pretty much.” Adrien chuckled. “Such is the life of a pretty boy.”

_“I swear, is your dad even human? It’s like the man never had a childhood.”_

“Hey, go easy on him.” Adrien said holding out a hand. “He means well.”

The classic back and forth. Nino was firmly in Adrien’s corner, of that there was no doubt, but that usually meant harsh rants towards his father. By this point it had become routine. Even the slow scowl that crept onto Nino’s dark skin had become predictable at this point. Adrien scratched his golden locks at how he knew the boy better than he knew himself.

_“Alright, alright. I’ll let it go on one condition…”_ Suddenly the outside world of Francois Dupont disappeared, and Adrien got a screen full of Nino. His friend wagged his eyebrows in a knowing manner. _“Mr. Agreste, any word as to the current rumor floating around that your latest spread will have you working with a hot girl model from overseas?”_

Adrien laughed. “Dude, don’t you have a girlfriend or something?”

_“If the meme fits, live it. Just dudes being dudes.”_

“Okay, yeah. It’s true.” Adrien walked up towards the window, looking to the slightly overcast sky from which his supposed new co-worker would be arriving. “I’m not really looking forward to it too much, though.”

_“What, models don’t know how to have fun, either?”_

“It’s nothing like that. You know me, I prefer a little more… real-world.” He’d never breathe a word of it, but most folks in the industry tended to be after certain things. The best thing to do was, as his father said, be cordial and not give this girl any reason to latch on. Adrien trusted his judgment in those matters. “I’ve got to be prepared to meet with her, so I need to go over my Japanese. Kagami’s been helping me practice.”

_“Japanese on top of English, French and Chinese? Dude, there’s a such thing as being TOO well-versed!”_

“My father would have to disagree with you.” At Nino’s exasperated groan, he laughed and went on. “I should get going. We’re getting one last lesson under my belt before Ms. Takamaki comes.”

Nino nodded with a wink. _“Okay, okay. Real talk, though. Has all this talk of a girl model… you know, churned the waters?”_

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Again, it’s not like that. Kagami knows this is for work. It’ll be totally professional.”

_“Right. No, yeah. TOTALLY professional.”_

”Okay, I’m hanging up now.” Adrien chuckled with a head shake. “I promise I’ll make time to hang out as soon as I can.”

_“It’s cool. Just be ready for a party when said time rolls around.”_ Nino brushed his cap. No one could throw a party better than his best friend. _“You gotta do you sometimes, am I right?”_

… You gotta do you…

“Yeah, right.” Adrien murmured. “See ya.”

The phone screen went blank, reflecting Adrien’s suddenly tired features. If only…

The boy returned to his bed and scrolled through his list of contacts for Kagami’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one turned out okay. It ended up longer than I expected but it should be some nice compensation since the last chapter ended up longer than I expected.
> 
> I’m glad this story has already gotten such a positive reception. I feel good about how things are going to work out. In terms of my update schedule, since I know people are curious, I don’t have a set day for when these chapters will come out but I will try and get them out as soon as possible.
> 
> Right now, we have a glimpse of Marinette and Adrien and where they are currently at in terms of everything. As the first line suggests, this takes place about a week earlier from the first chapter. I thought it would be cool if we started this off from a future point as they do in the Persona games. I think it worked out pretty well. By the way, I forgot to add this in the first chapter: for a mood effect, try reading the part in chapter 1 where the PTs hack the jumbo-tron while listening to ‘Take Over’ from P5R. That song was some good inspiration for that part.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

Footsteps never slowed, even in the youth of night. People ran to and from terminals in the busy airport, glued to their phones for travel times for their next flight or aweing at the plethora of lights there to greet the rising late autumn moon. Evenings brought out a hidden wild side in people.

A set of suitcases rolled along a spotless red carpet leaving thin grooves in its fibers. A thousand windows and security cameras were gleaming, refracting the indoor lights like a thousand eyes. It brought back an old thrill known only to them as they became leaves drifting on crisp winds in a forest of bundled bodies traveling in and out of security gates. Food courts wafted hot chocolate and sweet treats that left a few of their members weak in the knees from hours of flight. Akira Kurusu could not help the smile hearing a few stomachs grumble in the mass of beeps and calls from the overhead announcer.

Shifting his checkered scarf and hosting his back atop his black overcoat, he stopped just at the gate where the screen read for flights approaching. His group of friends stopped in turn, reaching almost to grab the screen, and dropping their coat sleeves to their elbows. Bones cracked and groans wailed, followed with the intake of the Parisian air rejuvenating their aching limbs.

Infiltration successful, he thought to himself smiling.

His loudmouthed partner in crime, Ryuji laughed overtaking the loudspeaker. “Yeah, ha, ha! We’re finally here! I mean, can you believe we’re in freakin’ Paris!?” The other blond, Ann, took in another breath.

“The air really does taste different here. Wait, is that fresh-baked chocolate muffins I smell!?”

“There goes your modeling career…” Ryuji smirked.

“Shut up!”

“Now, now,” giggled Haru in her lavender beret and fluffy pink fleece. “Let’s not spoil our first moments in France with bickering. It has been a while since we’ve all seen each other. We should be sure to make this an enjoyable trip.”

As Haru had said, it had been some time since Akira had gone home following the incredible year he had spent in Tokyo. One year jam-packed with life, loss, and learning, enough to probably cut some of his golden years in half and sprout grey hairs before he would turn thirty. People whose outlooks he changed and who changed him and basically taking society into a blender and turning it to mush.

It was a hard goodbye to the friends that became parts of him and who he’d taken the world with, but it had made the reunion all the sweeter when Ann hit them all up on a group video chat. Akira was glad to see everyone well and that they had all been making sure progress in their various goals and dreams. The model girl had given them the golden ticket of opportunity when she invited them all to Paris for her first overseas modeling job which was sure to get her name out overseas as she had hoped. She had said she owed it all to the friends who helped her discover herself and her life’s path.

That last part had been word for word and had gotten some snickers from Futaba, guffaws from Ryuji, and tears from Morgana. Ann promised to give each of them a piece of her mind when they had met at the airport.

“I agree.” Akira said, softly but commanding. “Let’s make this one to remember.”

“Hey, with this crazy group, anything’s memorable.” Ryuji laughed.

“Hello, are we there yet?”

A muffled voice came from Akira’s backpack. The bag rustled and shifted, Akira even feeling a few kicks and pokes. The zipper budged from the other end and out popped a black furry cat’s head. Morgana shook his fur into place.

“Jeez, you could at least be sure to let me know when we got here!” Morgana chastised. “All this time and you still can’t show me any respect.”

“You do recall I had to basically smuggle you in.” Akira commented. The airport had a strict no cat policy.

“Airports are straight-up discriminatory.”

“Kay, so what do we wanna do first, now that we’re here?” Ryuji asked.

“Travel to foreign countries offers one a chance to expand their cultural and philosophical horizon, as I believe I once said during our excursion to Hawaii.” Yusuke spoke in his ever-refined manner. “Let us take this chance for ourselves. I recommend visiting the Louvre.”

“Ugh! We heard you the first fifty times, Inari!” Futaba groaned adjusting her glasses and black pinned beanie.

“I’ve definitely got to check out some of the department stores here.” Ann noted. “You can expand your horizons, I’m expanding my wardrobe.”

“Um, Ann?” Haru piped. “Don’t you already have five closets full of clothes?”

“For real!?” Futaba yelled. “I thought you just had one of those infinite dimension bags! There goes my chance of seeing your x999 magazine collection.”

“I think she still has that.” Akira chucked.

“Everyone, calm down.” Makoto chided, the last to speak, still prim and proper as always. “While I’m sure we all have ideas for sightseeing and such, let’s not forget the real reason we’ve come to Paris. This is a major step in Ann’s career and we are all here to support her. Work before play, remember?”

Everyone went silent – Akira could literally see the snow covering their shoulders. Makoto was always the one to reign in those wild instincts with a little self-control, reminding them that letting loose was fine if it came with limits. Where would they be without her?

In fact, looking around, literally nothing had changed. For all the growth they did, Ann still had a weakness for sweets and a cute outfit, Yusuke lived and breathed paints and ate paintbrushes, Futaba spoke in her own secret language of gamer terms and references no one got and Ryuji was the guy to have at a house party. Not much change in their looks either, still sporting the same hairstyles and wardrobe picks they did on the very day he met each of them. Same story, different year, and it was its own kind of laughably disorienting.

Then there was Morgana. “I agree. Lady Ann is counting on us to help her through the terrible trials and tribulations of modeling. Fear not, Lady Ann, I will be there every step of the way!”

“It’s not like I’m sweating buckets…” She muttered.

“Anyway,” Makoto coughed. “Did everyone remember to review their French before the trip?”

“Uh… what about French?” Ryuji asked.

Suddenly the airport dropped a few degrees. Everyone paled as Makoto turned to face Ryuji directly, glaring.

“…You didn’t study?”

“Um… No, ma’am…?” Ryuji sweat dropped. The iron Nijima held the poor bloke in a visual chokehold.

Futaba sighed. “Gold-trophy achievement. No trophy for you.”

“Not like we expected anything from this idiot.” Morgana muttered.

“What was that!?”

Makoto crossed her arms. “I told you about it during the group chat. Honestly, how are you going to communicate with the people around here? You can’t just assume everyone knows Japanese…” She finished with a head shake and a sigh. “Just… try and have a translator app on you.”

“Don’t worry, Ryuji. If there’s any problems, I can translate for you.” Haru smiled. “I’m quite fluent in French after all.”

“Senpai…”

Makoto flipped out her phone from her coat pocket, checking the screen. “That aside, we’re supposed to be meeting with Monsieur Agreste’s assistant. She should be waiting for us near the airport entrance. We can meet with her after checkout and baggage claim.”

Everyone grabbed their carry-on handles and moved down the aisle before they were swept up in the influx of arriving people from the next flight. Akira heard something from Ryuji behind him echoing the fine art of procrastination to himself. No one paid him any mind as they trekked trough the metal maze following the signs to the baggage area.

The silent agreement was that Ryuji would be the one to haul the luggage. Ann had given him her three bags as punishment for his offhanded career, then Makoto offered her luggage as reprimand for his procrastination. Yusuke and Futaba were quick to jump on the bandwagon after that for no specified reason. The crass blond was soon waddling away from the conveyor lost in mounds of backpacks and stomping like an elephant as he dragged heavy bags out of the area as they looked for their guide.

Akira spotted her not long after, to Ryuji’s delight as he collapsed in a limp mess near the entrance. She was clad in a wrinkle-less suit, combed-back hair, and a small pair of glasses with a tablet in her hand, standing straight as if imperfection in appearance was a sin. It flashed the image of Makoto’s elder sister Sae in Akira’s mind, if only a distorted reflection. There was something about her, Akira’s sixth sense triggered, quite different from the elder Nijima. He honed on it as it was that sixth sense that led him to both his best friends and his worst enemies.

The woman stepped forward. Her legs moved as if independent of the rest of her body. “Konnichiwa, Takamaki-san.” She spoke in immaculate Japanese. “Pari e yōkoso. Yoroshikuonegaishimasu.”

“See?” Ryuji said panting. “People speak Japanese around here just fine.”

Makoto only shook her head.

“My name is Nathalie Sancouer, and I am Mr. Agreste’s personal assistant.” Ms. Sancouer continued. “We have prepared the limousines for you and your party. Follow me and we can head out to where Mr. Agreste and your parents have arranged for your stay. I will give you a basic rundown of the campaign along the way.”

“Oh, yes… Thank you.” Ann spoke almost flustered in the face of professionalism.

The woman nodded and made her way out the building.

“An NPC overflowing with the lack of a backstory yet overflowing with capability.” Futaba noted. “I am intrigued.”

“She certainly seems devoted to her work.” Yusuke noted.

Impressions going every which way, the group followed her to the pick-up area. Ryuji and Morgana had been somewhat vocal when they saw the ‘limousines’ were but a seat length longer than a normal car. If Makoto didn’t silence them, the brick wall of a man driving the other car crossing his arms and growling at them certainly did. Both Ryuji and Akira blinked when the man had even picked up Ann’s bags as if they weighed no more than a bag of in-flight chips.

The awkwardness as the boys and Futaba hopped in the car with the oversized man while Ann and the other girls rode with Nathalie. Throughout the first ten minutes of the drive, they had tried to start conversation with the driver about literally anything, from popular tourist destinations to foods to holiday plans to even the taboo factor of any conversation – personal history. The man had not even spoken a word to them, only kept his eyes on the road and obeying the directions of his GPS.

Even the introverted Futaba tried to coax words out of him and soon started poking him as if he were some robot with human skin. From a former shut-in who could not go out or talk to people without him as a handicap to someone who could speak any one of her mile-a-minute thoughts whenever she wanted made him proud. Of course, they had to step in when Futaba started reaching for his back to check if there was a wire panel on his neck.

The group merely whispered to themselves fawning over the passing sights. The wet streets rippled with the dancing glows of lights from passing store windows. Ryuji rolled down the glass letting his puffs of breath flow out as the chilly air cleared his head, bouncing his sight along every building wrapped in glimmering tinsel and caricatures. Yusuke framed his fingers looking out, every passing second a picturesque scene breathing back the joy of the holiday season.

From the front passenger’s seat, Akira looked to the other limousine to where Ann was speaking with Ms. Sancouer. Anyone with eyes could tell that the girl was rattled with the pressure of what would no doubt be a milestone, despite all the encouragement sent her way. The girl was stumbling through all the rules, combing for little tips and tricks in the fashion industry, and anything that had the look of an official document could still send her mind reeling. She was, in many ways, still that passionate young girl he’d met at Shujin Academy a year ago, caught in the eye of a storm of rumors and cruel gossip.

They all knew though she found direction for that passion, that she could stir the winds her own way, given a chance to find her ground. She could model with the best of them. The thing is, she would.

Though younger by a couple of years, this boy she would be working with, this Adrien Agreste kid was her senpai in the fashion industry. He'd seen and done it all: magazine spreads, editorials, shows, commercials, short films and more as the face of the Gabriel Agreste brand. The guy had even touted accolades under his belt from various bigwigs, from "Hottest Teen Model" to "Most Handsome Young Male". The perfect combination of talent, hard work, and connections had put his face on every square inch of Europe.

Maybe that punch to the gut she was clearly feeling at the time was all the star power. And yet... Akira knew there was something else.

He was cut off from his thoughts when the car began to slow. The others snapped to attention as well, seeing the car ahead of them also slowing. Blinking, Akira looked out the window.

It came into full view once Ms. Sancouer stepped out with the girls and he followed suit. Along the edge of the city close by the waterfront stood an impressive building regaled in Christmas decor. It towered above their heads with light radiating from six stories worth of windows. It draped along every brick, every leaf showing immaculate detail, carved to the tiniest speck with pure perfection.

Yusuke pictured the building between his fingers. “Quite the building. Imposing, yet there is a regal elegance…”

“This is definitely a step up from that shoddy attic…” Morgana muttered from behind him.

Ms. Sancouer turned to the party. “This is Le Grand Paris, the finest hotel in Paris. Mr. Agreste and Takamaki-san’s parents have made arrangements for you here for the duration of your stay.”

“S-s-s-say what!?” Futaba yelled.

“Here!?” Makoto jumped. “For the entire month? Isn’t that a little-“

“For real!?” Ryuji cried. Yusuke and Akira gave him the Japanese rundown and quickly wished they hadn’t. “Woo-hoo! This is totally frickin’ sweet! We’re livin’ the good life!!”

“Oh, boy…” Morgana muttered.

“Uh, sorry…” Ann bowed to their chaperone blushing. “He tends to get… overexcited.”

Ms. Sancouer, in the only show of reaction, adjusted her glasses. “We have prepared a luxury suite for you on the fifth floor. Take this time to settle in and gain your bearings. Tomorrow you will meet us at Place des Vosges at approximately 9:00 AM for a rundown of the shoot schedule.”

“Y-Yes, of course!” Ann bowed.

“Well, then. On behalf of Mr. Agreste, we look forward to working with you. Enjoy your stay and have a pleasant evening.”

With that, the woman returned to the car, stiff as a robot, and drove off. The imposing man who drove the other car followed suit. Soon it was just the eight of them again, standing at the street corner on luxurious red velvet with the late autumn chill on their necks.

Ryuji was quick to feel another as the girls turned their glares on him.

“Honestly, could you at least TRY to show a little more decorum!?” Ann yelled. “We’re in Paris, for god’s sake!”

“Uh, we’re staying in a luxury suite at the best hotel in Paris! How do you NOT get excited at that!?” Ryuji strolled in through the doors of the hotel. “This already beats Hawaii by a mile!”

The others turned to exchange looks.

“He’s certainly… enthusiastic.” Haru murmured.

“On a more frank note, it is a bit difficult to not share in his enthusiasm,” Yusuke smiled, despite himself. “It is not often one enjoys such luxuries as this.”

“He’s got a point.” Akira added.

“It’s just like he said that one time.” Makoto sighed. “Our group is the same no matter where we go…”

.

One step into Le Grand Paris hotel and the normal world became a giant landfill. After grabbing their keys they followed the hotel staff to the elevator and were carried up to the fifth floor where their hotel room lay in wait. Opening the double doors, the group’s breaths were near sucked out and danced away into the luxurious space before them.

Then Akira’s, at least, froze in midair.

There was such a thing as curtains that were too lush, or red velvet cushions that were too much like clouds. Also, when people spoke of marble floors so polished you could see your reflection in them, it was mostly an exaggeration. Here, it was not. Electronics-wise it had amendments that staff likely knew most of their group would never have the budget to touch in their lifetime, all under the near moonlike radiance of the chandelier above the pit. Four beds were aligned on both sides of the wall next to a long stretch of windows overlooking the city, set as though wrinkles were a sin.

His eyebrow twitched.

“We’re really going to be staying here… for a whole month…” Makoto muttered.

“It is rather similar to my arrangements, but even I have to admit it is a bit…” spoke Haru. If the heiress to a large corporation found it extravagant, there was no other word to be had.

“A query, Haru.” Futaba said. “When exactly DO the maids come and clean your room?”

“Oh, I believe they come in periodically when I’m off at classes. Why do you ask?”

The former shut-in groaned.

“Dudes, seriously! Why are you sweating this?” Ryuji shouted laughing taking a running start to the pit. With a hop off his good leg he bounced into the seat, reclining into the cushions. “We got this sweet pad for a whole month! I say drop the wet puppy acts and let’s live it up like kings and queens!”

“Agreed.” Yusuke said. “We should not squander our hosts’ graciousness. I should think the food here is quite exquisite.”

“You guys are so carefree…” Morgana shook his head.

“Aw, man…” Ryuji giggled. “Do you think I’m gonna get looks from all the cute French girls? S’like, I got that Japanese mystique that makes ‘em wonder what’s on my mind?”

“Highly doubtful…” Yusuke said.

“You’re full of it.” Ann said.

“What mind?” Morgana quipped.

“That’s a bit much…” Haru mumbled.

“Don’t say such ridiculous things…” Makoto scolded.

“Dude, come on.” Akira chuckled.

“Grand slam seven-hit combo!” Futaba cheered.

“…You guys are damn brutal, you know that?”

“Ugh, so you’re the riff-raff that’s going to be polluting my airspace?”

The group all turned to the doorway at the snide voice. Its owner stood at the entrance crossing her arms with a foot out to display what looked like designer-everything. A dirty blonde ponytail that near sparkled, makeup on every visible inch of skin and a nose pointed upward as though the air they shared was foul. Baby-blue eyes glanced at the whole lot of them and it was clear she was not impressed with what she saw as she scoffed.

“I was wondering what kind of backwater no-talent no-name Mr.Agreste could have fished up, but I didn’t think he was that desperate.” She chided. “He really scraped the bottom of the barrel if he went for this sorry lot.”

“Um… excuse me?” Ann asked.

“Wow, ugly and a dimwit to boot? What’s wrong, don’t they know how to speak refined language in the boonies?” She continued to mock them. It was clear it was getting on some of their nerves. “Let me make this simple for you: You. Losers. No Annoy Me.”

“Sorry, but… who are you?” Akira said knowingly. “The housekeeping?”

The girl scoffed again, and once more for good measure. “Do I LOOK like housekeeping to you, you four-eyed bumpkin!? I am the illustrious, incredible, beautiful, talented, beloved, and humble Chloe Bourgeois! Clearly, I should have been chosen for Gabirel’s fashion shoot and given the chance to model with Adri-kins but I guess his picking a hopeless amateur just proves even the most talented can make terrible decisions.”

“Chloe, darling!” A shrill voice came from the other side of the hall.

Soon the girl was seized by an older man with more gray hairs than he probably should have and a sash around his primed suit. Ms. Bourgeois was struggling to escape his grasp and resorting to dirty tactics like clawing at his limbs stepping on his foot. The man, sweating buckets and whimpering out promises of shiny things, still managed to hold the screaming girl in place.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, daddy! I am not done educating these commonfolk!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but you know you’re under house arrest after the last incident! We can’t have you being impolite to the guests and making the situation worse!” The man reasoned. By now he had her suspended, her legs flailing in midair.

“This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! Go back to your dumplings and red underwear, you losers!”

The man bowed to their party as he side-shuffled to the elevator at the hall’s end. “So terribly sorry about this. Don’t mind my daughter. We hope you enjoy your stay at Le Grand Paris and please do not hesitate to let us know if you need anything!”

With a yelp, he shut the double doors. Behind were more muffled screams and footsteps.

“Uh…” Morgana gaped. “What the hell just happened?”

“Got me.” Ryuji muttered from the pit. “What was that chick sayin’, by the way?”

“It’s… better if you don’t know.” Makoto muttered. Ryuji’s lack of studying came in handy.

They’d done the smart thing and put it out of their minds. In five minutes since the encounter the group had unpacked their suitcases and loaded their things into the closet spaces, grabbed their night clothes and gave the room a much-needed dose of imperfection to feel at home. Most of the group was piled at the pit while Ann and Haru had pulled their magazines from their travel packs and were scanning through the contents at their beds.

Ryuji and Futaba had been flipping through a guidebook Makoto had grabbed for them just before leaving Japan, two and four pairs of eyes scanning over the best locales Paris had to offer. Akira had passed a glance at Futaba’s urging. It had bits on everything from monuments and tourist spots to popular cafes with their signature dishes that could blow LeBlanc out of the water. Sojiro would slap him for the thought.

“So we got a plan for what we wanna see first?” Ryuji spoke over the TV playing. “We wanna check things out orselves or do we get on one of those tour bus things and-“

“AAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Everyone jumped at Ann’s scream. Ryuji outright rolled onto the center table, while Morgana jumped and flailed airborne.

“W-What is it!?” Makoto shouted.

“THIS!” Ann called, pointing to her magazine. “I knew I recognized the name!”

Her finger was practically burning placed on the ink-laid temple of an admittedly attractive man. Tan skin with raven hair more curly than Akira’s own, coiled with the sheen of a few gallons’ worth of hair gel. The top of his chest was exposed with the top buttons opened, an easy device for garnering hungry stares from ladies. His image was plastered in several poses on the two open pages on the magazine held in Ann’s trembling hand.

“Ms. Sancouer was mentioning him during the ride over! Antonio Silva!” She turned the magazine back to her and flipped through the pages. The whole thing might have been dedicated to this guy. “He’s supposed to be a major model from Barcelona: he’s sored all kinds of awards and he’s all about doing charity work for rainforests around the world!”

“Uhhhh, so?” Ryuji asked.

“She said he’s going to be in the campaign! He flew from Spain all the way over here!”

“… Whatever.”

Ryuji had hopped beside Yusuke and Makoto and joined them in flipping through the channels. Ann growled and scoffed, muttering something Akira’s trained ears caught along the lines of ‘uncultured blond ape.’ Morgana might have had more of an effect on her than he thought.

Haru, who had been startled into dropping her own read on gardening, returned to her reading. “Speaking of famous people, has anyone heard the rumors? Supposedly, there are actual superheroes in Paris. A lot of the locals talk about them.”

“Um, I know we’re all big fans of superheroes, but it’s a little farfetched to say they actually exist.” Makoto answered.

“True. There are some things that solely lie in the realm of fantasy.” Morgana added. “Even considering us.”

“Hold up, you’re talking about those two, right? Ladybug and Cat Noir?” Futaba had her laptop out in a heartbeat typing faster than the human eye could follow. Her screen exploded with windows that were either the most realistic photoshops Akira had seen or were actual newspaper clippings. “They’re totes a big deal around here. They’ve shown up more than once and gone all Super Sentai on supervillains, actual supervillains!”

That was his answer. “Go figure.”

“That’s quite the unexpected surprise.” Yusuke added.

As if to challenge his statement, the TV changed immediately. ‘Breaking’ was spelled in all caps stretched across the screen. A red-haired reporter soon appeared, reading professionally.

_“Nadja Chamack here with a breaking news bulletin.”_ The woman read. _“We’ve just received word from witnesses and updates on social media that the recurring Akumatized villain, Archangel, has once again appeared.”_

The image to her right expanded, and their whole group’s eyes widened in unison. The ‘villain’, as he was described, appeared in full splendor, though he hardly looked the part. Clad in golden armor with a razor-like sheen to it as well as a pale pallor that was almost sparkling, he descended to the streets on massive angelic wings. Whatever cameraman had been taking the shot was brave to want to close in on the strange being, catching the glint of the feathers that, up close, resembled blades more than anything.

The angelic being struck a chord within the group of rebels, thinking back to another villain that bullied others under the name of the divine. This one at least did not look to be bossing people around, at least. Instead, the man leaps to the air again and launched a volley of feather from his wings. They slashed the buildings, leaving deep grooves in the concrete. What looked to be permanent damage instead was fixed, to some degree, as the struck buildings and everything inside, was washed over with a glowing white wave.

It sent a flash across the screen that made the group blink. When they opened their eyes again, the buildings and people, stone and flesh, had soon become pristine diamond, refracting the light from the streetlamps. Everyone gasped in horror.

_“People of Paris,”_ the villain growled in a strong Hispanic accent. _“How dare you not shine as my love wishes you to! Have you no taste, no sense of beauty!? I shall make everything perfect for my beloved goddess!!”_

“Dude, is this for real!?” Ryuji cried, eyes bulging. “There’s a goddamn supervillain running around!”

“He is hardly one to speak of beauty.” Yusuke mumbled angrily, keeping his eyes locked on the buildings the villain had touched. “All he has brought forth is garishness at its finest.”

No doubt the attack’s effect brought back memories of his former mentor’s inner workings. It raised a greater hate of the garish and gaudy in the young artist’s views. Everyone else, however, was watching with dread or babbling messes of panic in Ryuji and Futaba’s case that humans had been affected. Even on the screen, people were running in the streets for shelter, screaming for help. Akira winced almost feeling the hits as some unlucky souls were struck and turned to life-sized jewel figurines.

What was going to happen now? Would this be fixed? Could this be fixed? Should someone call the army or the national guard? How do you stop someone who was making Paris into a diamond wasteland? Were they needed?

_“Hold on, we’ve just received another update!”_ The reporter cried.

Akira blinked. The others froze, sweat dripping down.

_“Good news!”_ The reporter broke into a smile. _“Ladybug and Cat Noir are on the scene!”_

The cameraman turned at this announcement. On the roof of an adjacent building stood two figures in true heroic fashion with hands at their hips. One was a ponytailed young girl in a skintight red suit with black spots. The other was a boy in a black suit with cat ears, a tail, and ferocious green slits. The girl broke out a yoyo that spun with such force it glowed while the boy unleashed a staff.

_“Sorry, Archangel, but we’ll need you to come back down to Earth again!”_ Ladybug announced.

The two dropped to the ground. Cat Noir followed up. _“Hate to say it, but it’s not too ‘heavenly’ around here with the likes of you!”_

Those that had stuck around exploded into cheers, as though the danger had already been passed.

For twenty minutes, the group had watched the heroic duo battle the twisted angel. No one said a word, no one’s eyes had even twitched or settled their jaws back into place from where they dropped. Only Akira, who had settled back into a strange calm yet still felt the hairs on his back stand on end and sweat run down his neck.

The pair made a dance out of the fight against him. For every swing of Ladybug’s yoyo, Cat Noir closed in with a swipe of his baton. After a flying kick from the boy, Ladybug would swing in and kick harder. Their opponent was no slouch, shooting feather that slashed things apart and crystallized the remains after, his slices perfect and pristine with the cuts appearing as smooth as sheets. All the while the villain was roaring and screaming like a wild animal and betraying his angelic form with no pattern to his strikes whatsoever. Ladybug was caught in the line of fire and barely recovered from the force of what almost looked like a missile with wings, stumbling onto the nearest rooftop.

Cat Noir had barely blocked the flurry of swipes and slashes as Archangel closed in, and one lucky hit sent the cat-themed hero flying into two buildings. Another blast of feathers came forth and Cat Noir barely had time to block with his staff. The weapon turned to diamond and Cat Noir had to leap out of the way of the rest. He extended his baton out, expecting something, but quickly changed course and arced on a streetlamp before rejoining Ladybug.

_“Cat Noir’s staff has been neutralized, same as in the previous attack!”_ Ms. Chamack cried. _“What will they do now?”_

… Previous attack?

_“LUCKY CHARM!”_ Ladybug answered.

Her yoyo spun above her in a shower of glowing hearts. From out of the glow came… a plate?

_“A plate?”_ The reporter echoed the question in their heads. _“What is Ladybug going to do with a plate? We’ve seen some strange Lucky Charms in our time. You never know what will come out of them!”_

Ladybug seemed struck with inspiration at that point. Whispering something in Cat Noir’s ear he flipped back while Cat Noir took the lead ahead. Archangel was quick to fire another round of feather, but Ladybug spread her legs and stood her ground. As if locked on the centermost feather she tossed the plate and caught it as it bounced back, knocking the feather back. It rebounded off the other crystallized objects and back towards Cat Noir who batted it with his staff.

It bounced around and around between the points repeatedly. The plate, the rubble, a house, Cat Noir, a streetlamp, the plate again, the house, Cat Noir, the lamp, the plate. As it returned to Cat Noir a final time, he knocked the blade upward and swung it again, this time into the villain’s back. His wings suffered the same fate as the surrounding area as the villain plummeted to Earth screaming.

Cat Noir approached, his claw glowing with a blackened light. One his fingers brushed the wings, they crumbled to dust leaving him free to catch the villain. It was no small feat for the boy who had just been rammed through several buildings to restrain the clearly older man. A single flower, black as coal, fell from the man’s suit, which Ladybug picked up and ripped apart, unleashing a black butterfly.

Her yoyo flicked, catching it out of the air. Moments later she tossed up the plate she had summoned. _“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”_

Whatever else might have happened afterward was cut off in the storm of cheers and the wash of red light which restored everything. Buildings were returned to stone, debris had been set back into place, and people were free and back to flesh. The image shrunk back to the upper right as the woman continued, an impartial smile on her face.

_“And there you have it folks, once again, Paris has been saved by our local heroes, Ladybug and Cat Noir! This marks the tenth time this month they’ve defeated the Akuma villain Archangel, but many wonder, will he return again?”_

The screen shut off.

Seconds felt like eons as it reflected their frozen, gaping faces. No one spoke a word.

Akira, on the other hand, settled back into the seat, leaning, with a wry smirk on his face. “Clearly this isn’t going to be a normal trip…”

Morgana sighed. “Is anything we do ever normal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has to be the longest chapter I’ve written since my early writing days. I always thought, it isn’t ready until you’ve crammed about 5000+ words into a single chapter and kept readers going for a time. On the other hand, I think it’s necessary when you’re trying to shove eight characters together in a single scene.
> 
> So here we have the introduction of the Phantom Thieves, the other main protagonists of the story. I’d like to hear the feedback from everyone as to how I’ve written them. I have Masquerade under my belt as practice for writing the characters of Marinette and Adrien, but I’ve got nothing but my experience with the Persona games for the Phantom Thieves. Hopefully I’ve written them to true character, since they are all so distinct and unique.
> 
> Writing wise, this chapter, it’s hard to say how I did. I don’t know if I should have included more emotion. After all this is told from Akira’s POV and he is pretty much a window for the player themselves. The prose itself, I am taking a meh attitude with since I want to cram into my own head that pretty prose is nothing next to the actual story.
> 
> So some things I want to get down right away:
> 
> 1) For the P5 protagonist, I decided to go with Akira Kurusu as his name. I know there’s also Ren Amamiya from the animated series, but Akira from the OVA seems to be the more generally accepted canon name for him.
> 
> 2) I would like to point out that while you read in English, they are in France. In the show, it is said that they are speaking English, even though they are technically in France. Everyone had to learn French per Makoto’s instructions, and classic Ryuji didn’t study. Also, for those interested in knowing what Nathalie said in Japanese (yes, actual written Japanese), it was “welcome to Paris. We are pleased to have you.”
> 
> 3) In regards to their meeting Chloe. She is under house arrest following the events of Miracle Queen. I didn’t think she should just get away with it, and some people have conceived punishments for her as well. This story only covers as far as the end of season three, so the events of the New York special aren’t relevant here.
> 
> That is about it. Thanks to everyone for reading so far. As always, review, favorite, follow!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

Marinette had taken her house’s heater for granted, coming out without so much as a sweater or long-sleeve shirt the next day. Her limbs were frozen holding her sides as she ran across the street.

She was still aware of the outside world enough that she could look both ways when crossing the street to school. For the most part, her eyes were glued to the phone, the Akuma Alert having been active since that morning. She had been switching the active app between the grid map of Paris and her calendar for due dates on her ever-piling list of commissions. Then there was her homework – the girl was sure she’d managed to wrap up her history assignment sometime before five in the morning. People could survive on at least 1 hour of sleep, right?

A brisk chill slapped her skin leaving it with festering goosebumps almost as punishment. Marinette shivered, pulling her thin jacket close.

Opening her clenched eyes, she spotted a familiar sight beneath her blue bangs. A certain young model walking down the steps from the entrance to the school. Golden hair and emerald eyes a gorgeous constant, but a frown also marred his features.

Marinette yelped and dove behind the railway. People behind her jumped in turn watching as she pressed herself against stone like a Jagged Stone poster.

One quick look at her phone, though. It had been a near two minutes since she last checked the screen. No alerts. She sighed. Back to panicking about normal life.

She dared permission to her wandering eye to jump out and check. Adrien turned his head around, blinking – clearly her shriek of panic had alerted him as well. He turned to the steps once more and soon another girl, hair the same black as hers but with a poise and posture like steel in a plaid skirt joined him. Kagami Tsurugi, here for their usual ritual if the red-pommeled saber in her hands was any indication. They chatted the tense moments away while Marinette’s palms pressed into the brick enough to leave eventual indents.

“… leaving now?” She heard the girl, Kagami Tsurugi, ask him.

Leaving?

This was Adrien’s usual time for fencing practice. Admittedly, she had not been keeping her crush’s daily schedule as up to date as the Marinette of old would do but she was sure he would be around for a while. She would be able to give the internet a run for its money, but all her attention was more towards her own endeavors, which some circles would say was a good thing. Her life had enough tribulations that she could barely keep up with anyone else’s.

“… business as usual…” Adrien answered.

“Your job…”

Ah, right. There was the winter campaign Gabriel Agreste was working on. The one with the… overseas model.

Marinette blanched thinking about her and images of her wildly successful spreads early on. Suddenly, her hands moved to her lips and shredding through her fingernails with anxious teeth. She was overthinking it, the rational part of her brain tried to say. The result of stress from one too many battles with that crazed Akuma Archangel.

That reminded her to check her phone again. Still no alerts.

Then there was the part of her brain that still dared to dream of three kids and a hamster. It was telling her that Adrien was already being carried on late autumn breezes of romance to the arms of Ann Takamaki. What was once a delusion of Adrien hopping on a jet to Japan and sushi was coming back to her head again. A few hairs almost popped loose.

The soft strum of a guitar stopped her.

Marinette yelped again. This time she caught the eye of a boy beneath a calm rain of turquoise locks. His nail-polished fingers drifted along the wind away from his guitar’s vibrating strings. He gave a chuckle so soft and sounded almost on tune as he smiled down at her, kneeling to meet her level.

“Still trying to give him his gift?” The boy question came with another strum sounding like the question in song form.

“Uh, Luka!” Marinette laughed. “Oh, you know, just… waiting for the perfect moment!”

He played again. “There’s never really a wrong moment… if you want someone to know you care.”

“No! I don’t! I mean I do, but not really care-care! Not like in that respect, but I do! I mean, do care-“

He strummed again. Her babbling went dead.

“Actually, it doesn’t seem like you’ve been talking with Adrien at all lately.” He dared a peak from his bangs. Dare she say it, Marinette could swear he looked… hopeful. “Did something happen?”

“Of course not!” The girl laughed. “Why would you think something happened? You don’t think something happened!?”

Luka sighed and played a few more cords, brushing the strings one by one. “Well, I think of ‘something’ as you’ve gotten to know Kagami. It’s really cool that you’re friends with her now.”

True, Kagami was pretty nice once you got past the initial view of her that would skewer people with a saber. All it took was a city-wide scavenger hunt, a misunderstanding, a car-cyborg, and a Miraculous to change that. At the very least, the two had come to a deeper understanding that hopefully endured the months that she’d been busy.

“Of course, ‘something’ also could mean how busy you’ve been…” He strummed more, hovering on the last chord. “You were pretty stressed that time. Your song is all…” Luka’s fingers twitched brushing the strings at random, out of tune and loud and quick and spiraling everywhere. “…like that. Everything okay?”

“What!? Oh, that!” Marinette chuckled. “That was… uh, the thing there was…”

She scanned her phone again.

Marinette sighed dropping her face in her hands. That was nothing more or less than an accident, a temporary leak of human weakness in the perfection of Ladybug. Often it escaped which is what led to a plethora of magical creatures currently snacking on a bowl of treats in her house and not in their usual Chinese clinic. Luka just happened to be close by, but for his own sake, he shouldn’t see that side of her again.

No one could.

But how to explain this? When she’d cracked and spoke of pressures and responsibilities in a way that justified a tearful breakdown in his arms. There was the commissions, schoolwork, dating – enough for an emotional teenager like herself, right? She could have really used her own Ladybug.

Marinette looked up and found herself staring into Luka’s sparkling eyes.

Her hand was enveloped in his as he curled both their fingers into one another. “If it’s really important, you should give him the gift. Don’t worry about words or moments… Just follow your heart.”

The girl blinked and looked up to the boy. He smiled, though that smile wasn’t able to keep up with her gaze.

She turned away, her hands drifting to her side purse. Luka’s fingers almost seemed intangible as the feelings compelled her to speak. “I don’t know. I keep waiting for a right moment, anyway. I really do… have a lot to do these days so it might not come. Maybe I should just ask Nino to give him the gift.”

Her eyes shut and the world around her faded into a black void. Everything around her form suddenly became less tangible, less real. The splotch of grass with bits of frost no longer brushed on her legs, the brick wall behind her vanished, and Luka himself may well have been an apparition of her hormone-stressed mind. It was all just a speck she looked down upon from on high, even on the ground. Thoughts swirled around her head, attempting to play catch-up and wake up from the previous night of vigilance, fears, and expectations.

The only thing that remained real was the phone in her hand, which itched for reaction. Her hands that could only create or heal or attack, not simply touch or hold. There was little point in being here when there were more important things to do, when Paris was but one man’s bad day away from devastation. In fact, why was she here again?

“Hey! Marinette!”

Marinette snapped awake. There were now three things she noticed in all her alertness. One, Luka was now standing up and looking away. Two, Alya was waving to them from the top of the steps looking down at her. Three, Kagami and Adrien were no longer anywhere, the latter whisked away to his job by his bodyguard in all likelihood.

Alya leaned on the railing. “Glad you could make it. And nice to see you out in the real world again.”

“Ha-ha.” Marinette stood and crossed her arms. “I’m still annoyed with that stunt you pulled the other day.”

“What stunt? I only delivered the truth as a journalist should.” Alya smirked batting her eyes. “You’re the one who went on about koi fish and kimono cats.”

“Whatever…”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now, come on!”

Alya pulled away and ran into the building. Luka’s chuckle caught her attention, as did his hand on her shoulder that made her jump. “Shall we head in?”

“Uh, yeah…”

First things first, another check. Still no new Akuma.

The two followed into the festive courtyard of Francois Dupont. Students garbed in white were like Christmas spirits clashing sabers with one another almost waltzing to the tunes of classic songs on the loudspeakers. Every symmetrical line along the walls and stairways were adorned with pine needles and tinsel, and above were the laughs and cheery voices of her classmates with boxes in hand and caps atop their heads. She smiled seeing them in such good moods.

At the steps, she stopped looking at the odd figure out in crimson red that stalled, their head turned towards her. Marinette swore Kagami was looking at her, before turning back and pushing down her opponent. Despite looking in tandem, the fencing team was in their own little space of focus outside holiday songs and decorations.

A brown hand grabbed her wrist. “Keep moving, girl. Ms. Bustier said we can keep decorating as long as we don’t disturb the fencing team.”

She gave a wave to all her classmates on the second floor. Rather, Alya raised her hand for her and waved in place of her dead limbs and frayed thought process. The next minute she was wrapping wreaths and pine along the railing of the second story along with everyone else. Marinette kept to herself while her classmates spent the time discussing holiday traditions and plans for the winter break. The girl gave a weary sigh and checked her phone again.

“Sorry, Alya, but I think I should head out. I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Hold on, girl.” Alya stopped her with a hand to the face. “Gonna need you for more than decorating.”

“Alya, really-“

“Just wait. I promise I’ll get to the real reason I called you over soon enough.”

* * *

To Adrien, the Place de Vosges was much more enjoyable when it was filled with ordinary people. Mr. Ramier feeding the pigeons despite a million and one warnings not to or little Manon playing with her Ladybug and Cat Noir dolls. A couple or two playing sweetheart and whispering by the fountain. The merry-go-round playing a cheery tune as parents and their children went around in a spiral of smiles. It wasn’t like that today.

Today, there were a million and one people, ranging from models to technical crew and makeup artists. There was more technical equipment than dirt as people arranged cameras and lighting while people sat awaiting orders. Flowers in the gardens by the benches were near swallowed and choked by an overflow of wires connected to overwhelmed outlets and generators.

It was easy to tell who the models he would be working with were. Look for the most beautiful men and women, laughing at unfunny jokes or shouting at the hired help for an imperfect finger sandwich. The majority of them, blondes and brunettes all with coiffed and combed hairdos looking over the schedules for the events.

He sucked in a breath walking through the crowds. Just smile, shake hands, be polite and laugh. The way of the noblemen among common peons. Do the retinue and he’d be through it.

“Adrien Agreste, a pleasure to be working with you.” One blonde girl he shook hands with spoke. “Your father’s Gabriel Agreste, the renowned designer, right?”

“Thank you, and yes he is.”

“Mr. Agreste, you must have quite the extensive resume. You’ve done shoots for a while, I suppose?” A brunette spoke.

“For quite a while, yes.”

“I’m such a fan! You won an award last year, right?”

“Do you have any tips? Any connections you’d be willing to share?”

“Can I get the number for your personal trainer?”

“Any chance you could give my portfolio to your father? I could get you some big ins as well!”

Each one was the same as the last – pretty faces looking to get through the door to the competitive fashion industry. One of the many things that left a bad taste in his mouth was how these people made it clear that politeness and pleasantries came with a price. It was what made him crave the normal world of school life and friends to hang out with for no other reason than they were there.

Adrien took a seat at one of the fold-up chairs near the fountain after his nerves and his hand had been shaken enough. The sturdy fabric beneath him helped to ground the boy. Most people would never think introductions could be so exhausting, but then, most people didn’t know the finer points of celebrity life.

Adrien looked to the trees where leaves stubbornly held despite the winds of winter around the corner. They held their place, finding a place that belonged to them and refusing to leave it even if given the command by nature himself. If only he could be that adamant. As if in response to his own thoughts, a red leaf was plucked from its place and drifted along the breeze, landing at his feet. Sighing, Adrien leaned into the taut fabric back of his chair.

He looked to the clouds and sun’s uncertain volley for control of the sky. “I wish I could’ve just been there.”

“What, not enjoying the meet and greet with fans?” Plagg asked popping out from his jacket.

“You know it’s not really like that.”

“Look, just speed it up if you’re bored.” Plagg said. “Just give ‘em a wave and a handshake and be on your merry way. That’s what works for those fangirls trying to rip each other up for your old gym socks.”

“Plagg, gross! No one does that!”

“You’d be surprised. Just stop sweating over hurting people’s feelings. Not like all these hoity-toity model types care anyway. They’re all stuck-up in one way or another. And if you hurry, you can still make it back…”

The kwami’s sing-song voice lulled him into confidence as usual. “You’re right. If I hurry up with this, I might be able to get back to school in time to help with decorations. But… father’s counting on me to be formal…”

“Kid, kid, kid…” Plagg shook his large black head.

The leaf blew a few inches his way. Adrien blinked at its radiating hues of orange to brownish red breaking from the stem, and then to the red shoes at his feet. He looked up to the one face he’d been preparing for the most.

Blond pigtails curling and flowing, a touch of makeup to look pretty for the cameras, and the exotic look that magazines craved. It took him aback that she was dressed in more casual clothing of a red jacket with white sleeves and a relatively cheap-looking handbag. It was still fancy but nothing close to the level Chloe would purchase for herself. Ann Takamaki had the mystique of her homeland as she bowed in front of him with courtesy, poised but relaxed. She lived up to the face seen in editorials, that was for sure – no clue as to what to truly make of her.

“Bonjour, Mr. Agreste. My name is Ann Takamaki. My parents are organizing the shoot with your father.”

Adrien cleared his throat. “Oh, uh, right. Pleasure to meet you. You can just call me Adrien.”

He waved his hand. Why, he had no idea; maybe Plagg’s advice was still skulking in his head.

Ann returned to her full height. “You too, uh, Adrien. I look forward to working with you this month.” She smiled brightly with her hands to her back, feet crossed in a half-curtsy almost.

Just keep waving. She’d ask for her favor and then leave.

“…So, uh… Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

The girl pursed her lips for the words, almost thinking of her request. Finally, she spat it out.

“…Do you know any good sweets shops around here?”

.

“H-Huh?” Adrien blinked.

Suddenly, all pretense of formality and professionalism was gone. Ann hunched over him with a hungry look. “It’s just that there’s so many sweets here in France that I’ve never tried before! I’ve heard of macaroons, but I have to know if you can taste the fruit in them! Oh, and I’ve been dying to try choquettes! It sucks that I have to watch my figure!”

Adrien nearly crumpled in his seat from her rapid-fire descriptions. The girl was speaking with such passion about desserts he could practically smell the sweetness on her escaped breaths. He expected an autograph or connections to the latest and greatest fashion designers. In hindsight that might not have been a problem for her given their similar backgrounds, but this was the first time a model asked him for directions to a sweets shop!

It was so… normal. The kind of question you’d hear from any random person on the street or kid in school. It was the air of reality he was so desperately needing after a full afternoon of greeting those who wanted to shake him down for shed success. She practically reminded him of his friends from class.

Adrien sat up and cleared his throat. “Uh, w-well… a friend of mine’s parents own a bakery. I hear a lot of people say they make the best sweets in all of Paris. It’s actually just around the corner, close to the school.”

“Really!? That’s awesome! I’ll mark it down on our list of tour spots!”

“Tour spots?”

“Oh, yeah! I don’t know if your dad or Sancouer-san already told you, but I came here with my friends.” Adrien couldn’t help but get a small stab of jealousy at hearing that. “We wanted to take a tour of Paris in between shoots.”

Sure enough, behind her came a whole group of people around her age. They were dressed in casual clothes, simple jackets and long pants one could find at a normal store, and hardly evoked the ‘entourage’ look most celebrities went for to evoke the popular image. A couple of them even tripped on some of the wires and danced around the equipment set up. Adrien caught the cold looks and sneers coming from most of the other gathered people, and it seemed they did as well, glancing hard back in full force.

Once again, the young model had to blink looking at the plain look of the group, his voice croaking from a slightly agape jaw. Many of them for the most part looked listless with hunched shoulders. A couple were antsy and dancing on their legs with clear strain from the lack of chairs. A yawn escaped the other blond one as he stuffed his hands back into his pockets. They clearly had gotten a good reception.

“Dude, seriously, are you done?” The blond boy asked Ann in clear Japanese, Adrien picked up. “Ain’t nothin’ to do here but stand at the gates and get snacks. The frickin’ hotel’s less boring.”

“You almost sound surprised.” The frizzy haired one with glasses murmured.

“Eh, not really.”

“J-j-j-just t-trying to stay out of p-p-people’s business,” the red-haired one stuttered. “I-I am invisible! I’ve got level-ten cloaking skill on here, folks! Just your friendly little NPC girl here. Save Guy!”

“I thought you were doing better with crowds.” The tall one with blue hair spoke solemnly.

“Social anxiety’s a 10,000-hour campaign, Inari.”

Ann went around and introduced each member of the group to Adrien. They all bowed respectfully as was the custom. Her blond friend spoke some broken French and switched to Japanese at his intro, though. Adrien bowed in turn to each of them.

“So, going back to the tour discussion,” Makoto piped up. “We should think about hiring a tour guide. It can get pretty easy to miss out on things without anyone who knows the sights. I’m going to try looking one up now. If I can get everyone’s suggestions for sites?”

“I’m not particular about landmarks, but I would like to visit some local cafes while we’re here.” Haru spoke.

“I’m cool with checking out the nightlife scene.” Akira added.

“Anyplace where the techies hang out?” Futaba asked. “I wish to mingle with my own kind.”

“It is important to experience the culture and history of Paris through a meaningful representation.” Yusuke turned to them, raising his voice in commanding attention. “The landmarks are necessary of course, but I feel the Louvre is most appropriate to witness-“

“You never stop, dude…” Ryuji noted.

They were all returning to their local Japanese dialect, forgetting their French of varying levels. Adrien folded his hands behind his back and looked away. This group was lost in its own little world once they engaged in conversation but found themselves in a banter that seemed natural to the point of automatic. It almost warmed him a bit.

Ann startled noting his reserved posture. “Oh, sorry! We kinda zoned out on our after plans there.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” Adrien chuckled with a wave off. “So it sounds like it’s your first time in Paris?”

Akira chuckled. “Yup. We’ve got that tourist vibe, don’t we?”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to-“

“AARRGH!!”

The group flinched at the nearby growl turned scream. A loud crash and a yelp came to the ground had followed it. Most of the other guests gathered had turned to the noise as well, but if they found it, they gave no mind. It was back to wine tasting and flirting with the successful as they turned back and resumed whatever they were doing prior. Adrien huffed and moved to the front, Ann’s group quick after he noticed.

Near the gates to the park, a waiter was standing in place, trembling. He was fixated on the tray he had now on the ground with the hors d’oeuvres catching dirt on the ground. He moved to pick up the tray but quick enough had his scruff manhandled by the other man. Adrien yelped and went pale at the sight of the man.

Curly raven hair now frayed, tan skin, a crimson shirt with the red clearly in his eyes and a face more enraged than a rampaging bull. If he was in any other mood, he’d catch the attention of more than a few of the models around, but at this point he’d be lucky if anyone else got close. He clutched the waiter’s shirt collar with veins in his hands which at that point looked strong enough to bend metal. Sweat ran down Adrien’s face while his head sank down to his shoulders staring at that man who might be burned into his memory at this point.

Ann ran up to his side, leaning in as if to search his locks for horns growing out. “Wait a second… isn’t that Antonio Silva!? The Brazilian model!?”

“Someone’s ticked off, and that’s comin’ from me.” Ryuji added in Japanese.

“ESTUPIDO!” The man yelled in a thick Portuguese accent. “What is the meaning of this!? Why have the park grounds not been swept! Are you trying to soil our feet with this filthy dirt!?”

Adrien took a step back, something that did not go unnoticed.

He caught Akira’s eye, who looked at him concerned. “Is something wrong, Adrien?”

“I-I-I’m s-sorry, sir!” The waiter choked, looking anywhere but the older man’s cracking eyes. “T-That’s not really my department. You’d have to t-tak-talk to the grounds keeping staff! I’m just here to serve food!”

“LIES! I’ll have your job for this incompetence!”

Adrien’s head shook between the glances of the Japanese group, who were now fully focused on him. Was this even something he could explain? Noting the exploits of superheroes and the daily chaos that happened in Paris to tourists was not really recommended. In fact his father had given him specific instructions not to do so – that was enough to lock the truth behind a metal sheet in his throat. If only he could retain the composure he had as Cat Noir and just give a tired huff to mail confidence to waiting worried folk.

Though there was no point in keeping his cards close to his chest now. Silva and his tirade were clearly a world away in their heads now that he had visibly flinched, sounding more like muffles behind a closed door. There was little chance they hadn’t seen the report the other night either. Ladybug and Cat Noir were always the top story of the day around here.

Raking a hand through his hair, he gave a sigh.

“Yeah, this isn’t anything new…” he began. “Mr. Silva’s been like this for some time now. In fact this attitude of his started a few weeks before the campaign was announced. He wasn’t like this when we first contacted him, though.”

“Really?” Haru asked.

“Actually, he’s been akumatized a few times throughout the month.”

“WHAT!?” The group exclaimed.

“Wait…” Makoto continued. “Y-You’re not saying…?”

Seeing that a few stray pupils were wandering in their direction, Adrien leaned in cupping his hand to his mouth. The others leaned in turn. “We try to keep this stuff on the down low with people outside of Paris. Ladybug and Cat Noir deal with supervillains that pop up around the city. They’re released by Hawk Moth, who controls people through their negative emotions. You ever hear of the villain Archangel? That’s Silva.”

“For real?” Futaba spoke. “T-This guy was a legit supervillain!?”

“Shouldn’t you get those guys over here then!?” Ann whisper shouted. “He looks like he could go villain at any second!”

“What is going on here?” A voice like polished diamond asked. Clear but cold to the touch, or ear.

A woman who could best be described as a reborn Audrey Bourgeois came in with a large feathered boa atop transparent robes made of gold. White accents became jagged at the edges giving her coverings the appearance of wings draping over a lost soul. Her face, devoid of lines or spots and near radiating was hidden behind white-rimmed sunglasses and the thin silver veil over her tower of hair, though behind she seemed to be judging God’s work. Immaculate fingers touched her chin so daintily with fingernails so sharp they could cut jewels as she turned to Silva. The man righted and stood at attention in her presence, bowing with an agape jaw as though air was stolen from his lungs.

“N-No way, it’s her!” One man shouted from the back.

“The famous fashion critic!” A female whispered. “She came to this meet and greet?”

“I wasn’t expecting Mademoiselle Camille Pernet until the first showcase!” A second man noted.

“Camille, you have come!” Siva shouted, almost daring to look up at her. The woman gave no response. “My goddess has graced us with her infinite beauty and wisdom! She should be given nothing less than the perfection with which she graces us! My goddess deserves only the greatest perfection this city has to offer! Gabriel Agreste and the Takamakis should-“

“Calm yourself, love.” Her fingers ghosted with grace near divine. Silva’s voice that was once so commanding died into mere whimpers as he near leaned in. Adrien and the others watched with near pity.

Pernet turned to the park. Her face gave no change other than the slightest twitch of her mouth into a near invisible sneer, Adrien noted. He’d been trained to practice such subtle changes.

“Really now, this is the best Gabriel Agreste could do?” She noted.

“Huh?” Ryuji was dumbfounded.

“If he expects me to spare him a second of my precious time, then he should make the effort.” She noted. “All these subpar schoolgirls – it’s as though he dragged them out of a fifth grade Podunk pageant.”

“E-Excuse me!?” Ann’s voice gained a hint of rage.

“You can slap makeup on a pig as best you can, it’s still filthy swine.” The woman pushed past Ann and the girls, without a glance or a thought. She was looking right at him, Adrien could tell through those sunglasses. “You are his work of art. The spitting image of perfection, as he described. About the one thing the old fool did right.”

“U-Um…”

“Hello!?” Ann shouted. “Who the hell do you think you are!?”

“Ann, please, behave yourself!” Makoto whispered.

Adrien should have been just as flustered or enraged as Ann was, and yet he was frozen stiff.

Just as quick as she approached, Pernet turned back and walked away. “I believe we are done here. I will be having a word with Gabriel, for sure…”

Silva followed as though blind without her glowing image or rather like a dog on a chain. The moment she was out of both earshot and eyesight it was as though the world turned again. The autumn winds returned, people could breathe and remembered how to walk and speak at the same time. The topic on everyone’s minds was clear.

“What is up with that lady!?” Ann stomped her foot. “What a total snob!”

Adrien coughed and rubbed his arm. Akira gave him a hand on his shoulder to with he gave a thankful smile. “I’m really sorry about what happened, Takamaki-san. Ms. Pernet was a guest of my father for the show to help with publicity. That really wasn’t any way to behave.”

“You seem rather shaken.” Yusuke noted. “She was rather interested in you.”

“Almost feel sorry for you, if someone like that’s on your six.” Futaba chuckled despite the moment.

Akira turned to him. “It almost sounded like she and Silva were…”

“Yeah, actually, they are dating.” Adrien muttered brushing his head. At the Japanese group’s shouts and stares of disbelief, he went on. “They’ve been dating for some time now – actually their relationship started not long after we contacted Silva. That was around the time he changed.”

“Really…?”

Adrien nodded. His limbs suddenly felt like spaghetti as he grasped his knees. Exhaling out, he stood again. “Well, I gotta go, I’ve got other things to take care of. It was nice meeting all of you.”

He waved to the group as he walked out the gate to his bodyguard’s car. There were plenty more errands to run if he even stood a chance to get back to school and help set up. There was the off chance it could be the last he’d see of his friends this month. Yet, he still didn’t feel like the day was a total loss.

* * *

Marinette teetered on the footstool she stood on as the double doors to the cafeteria burst open. Keeping her balance on her toes and steadying herself, she watched as Kagami stepped in, back to her standard uniform, skin polished to perfection and free of the sweat or grime she’d worked up prior.

The secret watched as Kagami looked around the room, settling on the crowd of her classmates around the tables setting ribbons and tiny trees in place. The one to turn was Alya, who beamed at the sight of the stoic girl who gave no hint in response. Alya ran up pulling her phone from her pockets with its dangling spotted pendant as quick as if Ladybug’s Lucky Charm conjured them up.

“Hey, Kagami. Do you remember me? Alya Cesaire?”

“Ah, yes. The creator of the Ladyblog.” Kagami folded her hands and bowed. “I am an admirer of your work.”

“That’s me. I don’t suppose you got the email I sent you a day ago.” At Kagami’s silent nod, Alya continued, clicking her pen. “Well, I was hoping I could get an interview with you for my blog, on a particular topic, if that’s okay.”

Oh, no…

Marinette leapt off the stool towards the two. The strings of fake pine needles she clutched came with her without her notice; her skin itched as a loop formed around her ankle and sent her tumbling. It wrapped her frame while kinetic force continued to laugh at her expense, rolling her before the girls. Turning up to their stares, she chuckled nervously.

Hearing the other two chuckle, the girl bolted up. “Uh, hey, Kagami. I guess you’re acquainted with Alya. Just so you know, you don’t really have to do this…”

“Girl, come on!”

“She’s just looking for something to post on her blog since news has been dry lately. Don’t let her bother you.”

“It’s fine, Marinette.” Kagami gave her rare smile. “I already agreed to her request.”

“Thank you, Kagami.” Alya gave a triumphant smirk as she turned on her camera. “So Kagami, what can you tell us about a hot topic from your neck of the woods? The Phantom Thieves.”

Marinette blinked.

The rest of the class turned around as well. It was a menagerie of wide eyes and feet set in motion as they crowded round.

Word about them had been little more than rumors in online chats or the odd piece of merchandise left over from their heyday, but scarcity was fodder for interest. Everyone at school had heard the group’s name tossed around at one point or other; criminals who stole the hearts of other criminals. They operated from the shadows, never seen by anyone in public, from their inception to their disbandment, never to be heard from again. If that was romanticism, then it was only natural in the city of romance.

Marinette only shook her head and turned away. Just as ‘stealing hearts’ was just a fancy term for romance, they were just a fancy name for a legend that spanned a year before people had something else to talk about. Imagination had its limits and that was coming from a girl who was a secret superhero with magic powers.

Kagami moved away from the crowd to a nearby table. “Right, you had mentioned this before. We agreed to do so at this time as I have been asked before by many of you. It is more efficient to tell you all at once.”

“Hence my brilliant plan to gather us here for Christmas decorating. Two birds with one stone!” Alya winked.

Marinette’s shoulders twitched. So that was her plan.

Kagami fingered an unlit candle, tipping it. She cleared her throat and began. “I will tell you all what I know, which granted, is not much. We came to Paris sometime before the Thieves first began activity. The rumors are as you have heard them. Several people in Japan who were revealed to be criminals were so because the Phantom Thieves had taken their hearts and made them confess their evil deeds to the world. It is…”

As everyone leaned in with rapt interest and smothered poor Kagami, Marinette walked away. Taking the string of needles from her feet, she returned it to the windowsill. Her fingers brushed the glass flinching from the flash of cold while fog evaporated off the surface. Her haggard appearance was laid bare as she caught her reflection while glancing at the others living in happier moments. Focus on the here and now rather than the millions of tragedies waiting.

The school was a pretty sight at least, lines of green and red covering every square inch and glowing with the celling lights. It was good for everyone to have these little pleasures. Turning to the box by her feet she lined the strings with bouquets of fake berries and bows and pictured the smiles on her classmates’ faces.

She checked her phone again. Still no new alerts.

Her ears pricked at the hints of conversation. That’s when she heard it.

Alya asking: “Random question. Do you think it would be possible for Ladybug and Cat Noir to team up with the Phantom Thieves?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. Also, once again, she was teetering on the footstool. She waved her arms for precious balance and gravity’s helping hand. She found the windowsill instead and latched on. Her yelps had gotten everyone’s attention again, though. They all laughed in good measure.

Nino tipped his cap. “Wha’cha think, Marinette? Ladybug, Cat Noir and the Phantom Thieves?”

Her bluebell pupils settled on the phone still clenched in her hand.

“Sorry, wasn’t listening…” She chuckled.

Rather, she pretended she didn’t hear that.

She pushed herself back to a rightward stand like a normal human. A hand offered itself next to her. She turned to find the eyes of Luka staring back at her with a half-smile that didn’t even make it close to his eyes.

“Something wrong, Marinette?”

She stuttered, a flush of pink coming to her cheeks. “Ah, nothing. Nothing really.”

This time a smile came into full view. Luka was so good at playing the cool steady crystal rock that kept her steady. He waited for her hand to come into his and led her down the two steps on the stool. “You know, I think a team up between those guys would be… pretty interesting.”

Marinette remained silent at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So another long one. It came out a little later than I wanted to as I have been tired from work and I have been formulating ideas for yet another new story in my head. I blame it on my resurging love for Digimon.
> 
> I don’t know if I’ll be able to power through this story as I did my last couple. I might be taking breaks to work on other stuff I want to do. I feel like I will be more productive that way. I will still be working on this in the meantime and putting out chapters as I can.
> 
> Anyway, worlds are beginning to collide, and things become problematic. It was a little on the nose when Alya asked Kagami straight up about the team-up thing, but hey.
> 
> So next chapter – Ladybug and Cat Noir are in a bind, so its time for the PTs to do their thing. Look forward to it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

By late afternoon the clouds had parted to a beautiful sunset. Inside the hotel, the mood was as stormy as ever.

The red hue refracting off the glass was in direct competition with Ann and Ryuji’s faces. What was once a lavish spread at the dining table prepared by the Grand Paris’ finest chefs was now a carnage zone. Plates knocked over and the table all but devoid of any protein or sweets, now on the plates of the two teens who were gobbling it up like rabid wolves. The guests at nearby tables in their suites and finest wear were frozen with wine glasses at their lips nearly spilling over watching the two. Akira could barely repress a smirk at the two being the eternal odd people out.

“The hell’s up with that lady!?” Ryuji snorted in between mouthfuls of the ribeye half caught between his teeth.

“’Subpar schoolgirls!?’ ‘Filthy swine!?’” Ann growled even with the decency to wipe her mouth… with her hand. “I ought to smack the living daylights out of her!”

“Excuse me…?” A woman in a frilly blue skirt asked. “Will you be… sparing any of the meat or dessert?”

“IT’S TAKEN!” They both screamed.

The other guests flinched, some even jolted for their seats. An uncomfortable number of them, in fact nearly all of them, started asking for their bills and a doggy bag. Their soles screeched across the floor with desperation for escape.

Makoto’s head sunk a few feet into her shoulders. “Will you two please behave!?” She hissed to them. “You especially, Ann! I do not think I should have to remind you of what this might do to your image! You shouldn’t even be eating sweets!”

Ann’s head shot to their senpai’s wide-eyed pallor with stuffed, crumb-covered cheeks.

“I HAVE A PERSONAL TRAINER!”

Meanwhile, the rest of the group settled on what remained of the buffet setting it onto their plates like scavengers on a battlefield. Yusuke grabbing a generous portion of seafood and vegetables, far beyond his usual fare of string beans and a cube of tofu if his hunger was that intense. Despite the… tears in his eyes, Akira noted, his attention was elsewhere.

He was turned to Futaba, who was wearing that porcelain mask of hers from her early days out of her room.

“Is that your…” Yusuke blinked. “How did you even pack that into your suitcase?”

“Trade secret.” Her muffled voice spoke.

From out the double doors, Andre Bourgeois came in a fixed bow as if his spine was permanently bent over. The man, Akira looked on shrinking inward, was red-faced and sweating having run marathons between here and the lobby.

“Honored guests, I do so hope everything at the buffet is to your liking.” The ‘mayor’ of Paris, if that could be believed at this point, meekly spoke. “We have prepared this feast all for your tastes. Nothing less than the finest here at the Grand Paris. Tell me, is everything of good taste?”

“Uh, yes…!” Akira noted.

“E-Everything is quite delicious!” Haru added near-simultaneously.

Ann and Ryuji answered with five more food things crammed into their mouths.

“Hey, Taka-moron!”

Chloe’s shrill call came from the hallway entrance. A diamond-encrusted phone was in her hand with a finger sinisterly over what Akira guessed might have been the camera button. “What do you think is your most flattering angle if you have one? Wait till the public gets a load of this little piggy!”

She suddenly froze.

Akira had a good guess as to why the air was starting to tingle and the room was caught between melting or freezing over. It was something akin to a volcanic eruption along with a blizzard of cold shrapnel combined, threatening devastation to the unfortunate soul who dared trigger their awakenings. Out his peripheral, Major Bourgeois had made the wise decision to head for any point far enough.

Chloe pocketed her phone, huffing and storming off. A whimper came and she walked slightly faster.

Ann and Makoto huffed in turn and went back to their previous engagement. Ravenous growls and tired sighs came back to his ear. The rest of the group cleared their throats and went back to their business as well.

Haru finally spoke, after swallowing a bit of cauliflower on her plate. “So, um… what did everyone think of that boy? Adrien, I believe his name was?”

Akira caught the silent plea Haru signaled for in her gaze.

The quiet boy cleared his throat. “Oh, Adrien. The, uh, model boy. I thought he was a cool kid… He had this, this vibe to him, you know?”

Most of the group righted themselves. The talk had the desired effect, as Ann and Ryuji were beginning to eat their food like normal human beings again. He and the rest of the group could hear the soft piano music from the overhead speakers, not to mention their thoughts once more. Honestly, Adrien was a nice kid, and there was a certain something about him that struck Akira, though that itself was no surprise. People were just collections of masks in his experience.

Morgana’s black head popped from out of Akira’s bag, huffing. “Hmph! I just hope he doesn’t have any plans to get close to Lady Ann! It’s always the pretty boys with something to hide.”

“Should us boys feel flattered?”

“You know what I mean!”

Yusuke took another forkful of shrimp and broccoli. “He did mention some rather interesting things about that model Silva. I can’t help but note his strange apprehension towards that Pernet woman as well…”

Akira and Morgana groaned. Ann was right back to stuffing herself. At least Ryuji stayed snapped out of it.

“About that, actually.” Great, now Futaba was getting in on it. Those two needed to learn how to read a room. “I actually did a little light research afterwards. Pernet’s not just some hoity-toity fashion critic with style like a traffic light. She’s got her own brand, too.”

Makoto blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Yup. She only signs on dudes, but those dudes end up hitting it big in the industry. Magazines, shows, even some TV deals, not to mention boatloads of moolah. In fact, that Silva guy signed on with her some time ago. Around the time they started dating.”

They all looked to her, then back to their plates. The food was almost invisible or forgotten, though.

“You know,” Ann began clearly, the red in her eyes now only from the red velvet walls. “Silva was already pretty big. Even before he signed on, he’d gotten a good amount of success. Nothing major, but enough. He was also known for being a pretty big activist. He worked on a lot of projects towards protecting the environment and endangered species.”

“Heh, wish we could’ve met that guy…” Ryuji muttered.

“Yeah, he called it quits.”

Ann and the others whipped their heads to the hacker. “Wait, what!?”

“Yup, called it quits. Done, finito, game over.”

No one knew what to say to that. Well, they did, but didn’t know why they couldn’t say it.

“In fact, Silva cancelled all his ongoing projects. Just one day called the folks in charge and said ‘thanks but no thanks.’ No one could make heads or tails out of it.”

The whole situation reeked of strange worse than the limburger cheese on the table simply reeked. They already knew from their few moments of seeing the man that he might have been a few trees short of a forest, but this was next level weird. Though there was the collective feeling amongst all of them – abrupt changes in behavior for the worse never led to any good signs.

Whispers came from behind them. In all their thoughts and the carnage Ann and Ryuji laid to the buffet, it was almost a shock that people were still in the room. Yet all eyes on them, and not so flattering words were surely being passed around.

“I think we should discuss this back in our room.” Akira muttered.

Everyone nodded, set their plates to the side and headed out.

Morgana swiped his paw out the other side of the bag. “Wait! I didn’t get to try the sushi!”

* * *

The Phantom Thieves all gathered back in the room, seated at the pit with brows scrunched in concentration. They were hunched over any magazine that had Silva’s face or article on the phone that had mentioned his name. Between all their efforts, they’d gathered quite a bit.

Antonio Silva was once known as nature’s guardian soul born into the world of man, whose heart beat with the forest. His early success as a model became the springboard for his environmental work, as he poured himself into any campaign that lent a hand to an ailing Mother Earth. Photos of and interviews with him from recent years came out of meetings with everything local groups to major organizations such as the World Wildlife Fund. Many of his photos showed him with endangered species such as the Sundra Tiger or African elephant, as calm as housecats with him.

Then Pernet stepped into the picture, and if Antonio Silva was once a life-giving tree of a man, he’d now burned into withered ash. Talks with him ended with things being thrown across the room and when talking of animals, the first thing that came to mind was fur pelts, authentic ones only. One could hardly tell the new Silva from the one that looked capable of smiling.

Ryuji’s separate findings revealed social media was more shocked than anything. Withdrawing from his many charities and projects without answers, no one had anything to say. Nothing except for ‘bring the old Silva back.’

“It’s hard to believe such a drastic change could even be possible.” Makoto muttered.

“It seems that on top of all this, Silva has called for the jobs of several people in the industry, including models from rival brands.” Haru explained. “All of it is based on rather egregious charges, though.”

“Either way, it’s not like it’s scored the guy points in anyone’s book.” Ryuji added.

“This change in behavior is suspicious,” Akira said clasping his hands together. “No matter what way you look at it.”

“For real…”

“So? What do you guys want to do?” Morgana asked as he leapt to the center of the table between them.

“What do you mean?” asked Akira.

“Silva’s actions and words show all the tell-tale signs of a Palace. At least, it looks to be that way.” The black cat turned away, his ears flattening on his head.

A Palace. The very word sent a jolt down each of their spines like a gunshot to the chest. It stirred familiar flames inside, an old smolder that was building back up into a burning call to arms moving their limbs outside their thoughts. Akira’s fists grabbed the folds in his pants as if to tame those flames.

Yusuke cleared his throat, calling his and everyone’s attention back. “Even if that is the case, what can we possibly do? None of us possess the Meta-Nav anymore. Our endeavors as thieves are a thing of the past.”

“Actually, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Akira said smirking.

“Wait, what?” Ann asked.

The leader turned to Futaba and gave a nod. The girl in question hopped to her feet grabbing her phone and flicked her finger over. Showing it to the others, the screen now had what looked to be a black smiling face with an eyeball.

“Da-da-da-da! Presenting, courtesy of your friendly Alibaba, the man-made Metaverse Navigator!”

“WHAAAAATT!!!?”

The team’s combined yell echoed through the room. A knock came on their door.

“Is everything alright in there?” A thick French-accented voice asked.

“Uh, yeah, we’re all good!” Ann yelled back in French.

“Very well…”

Closing in, everyone turned to the resident hacker with eyes bulging. Ryuji, minding his volume for once, whispered furiously. “The heck!? You made your own Meta-Nav?”

“Yup. I got back my mom’s cognitive psience notes after the whole Shido fiasco and got a good look at ‘em.” Futaba gained that wild look and crafty grin whenever talks leaned into her subject of interest. “That’s when I thought ‘Egads! What if I try to program all this into an app!?’ A few days and a dozen or so cups of instant yakisoba and orange juice later and wha-bam! One custom-made Meta-Nav with a personalized design! Achievement unlocked!”

“Okay, okay, but… you made… a Meta-Nav.” Ryuji shook his head. “For real!?”

“I really have to agree with Ryuji.” Makoto muttered bracing her no doubt spinning brain with a hand. “The Meta-Nav wasn’t like any other phone app. It wasn’t even an app – you said so yourself!”

“Moreover it is rather difficult to believe access to an alternate world can even be programmed into a phone app to begin with.” Yusuke added silently.

“Eh, it can happen. Just seems like a sequel-esque idea to me.”

Akira’s hand rested on Futaba’s shoulder. “We can grill about the details later.” His palm sucked out the excess energy as he pulled her down to her seat again.

Haru nodded. “Yes, we should focus on the matter at hand. Silva’s disturbing behavior makes him a likely candidate.”

“Alrighty, then!” Futaba opened the app to a similar designed list of fields and the mic on. “Antonio Silva!”

_“No candidate found.”_

Everyone blinked.

“Uh… Antonio Silva?” Futaba vocalized again.

_“No candidate found.”_

“Wait, what the hell?” Ryuji asked, dumbfounded. “He doesn’t have one?”

“How can that be?” Haru added. “His actions show all the signs.”

“Do they?” Makoto noted. “All of our previous targets not only had loathsome personalities, they engaged in criminal actions. Their deeds and characters were longstanding, built over a long period of time due to certain events.”

“Oh, yeah…” Ryuji breathed, nodding. “This Silva guy ain’t exactly doin’ anything wrong. In fact, he was a pretty cool guy before. He just gets pissed off a lot now.”

“…And that’s what we haven’t been considering.”

The others tuned to him and his voice, quiet but commanding attention. The thief leader sat with his gaze to his hands, notes and details pulled from folders in his memory. Akira’s contemplative gaze, hidden behind his glasses, soon turned to all of them and scanned across the room. “There’s something we’re not discussing here.”

Morgana, his partner by twisted yet humble fate, seemed to read his thoughts. The non-cat nodded and answered. “That’s right. Think back to what we heard from Adrien. Silva’s erratic behavior only began around the time he started dating Camille Pernet.”

At the mention of Pernet, Ann snapped to attention. Her glare and tensed shoulders kept Akira’s eye on her. “You mentioned her before, all that stuff about how she only works with male models. That sounds a little fishy to me.”

“Doesn’t she employ women as well?” Haru asked.

“Checked her whole roster of active models. Nothing.” Futaba shook her head and curled into the seat. “All she’s got are dudes. What’s more, in recent years, the majority of all the successful models have been under her brand name only.”

Here was the start of the old paper trail that never led to anywhere but the worst of humanity. The trail that was too often swept under the rug. Problematic actions were the first, and in the eyes of the everyday person, the only sign that one saw the world through a distorted, borderline psychotic lens. Camille Pernet already left a bad enough impression in their views that any shady rumors were practically road signs evolved into a billboard with neon lights. The overhead lamps almost dimmed as they delved further.

“Looked into it a little more on the elevator ride up.” Futaba’s nonchalant air leaked from her voice in spite of the mood as she swiped her finger over her phone to a saved page with various links. “There’s a lot of word on the sly here. Supposedly, any female models with Pernet get fired out of the blue. Private details getting leaked, random-ass scandals, all sorts of bad stuff. Not to mention there’s the on again, off again stories of sexual harassment.”

Ryuji scoffed. “Makes sense. I mean, we’re talkin’ models here.”

“I think I’m seeing where you’re going with this…” Makoto shook her head holding herself. “Pernet may be staging such scandals to ruin the reputation of female models and remove them from the industry.”

“Wouldn’t such a thing be damaging to herself as well due to association?” Yusuke asked.

“Not if she frames it just right for the public.” Morgana noted. “No doubt she considers that.”

“There’s more.” Futaba’s finger scrolled down her screen as she spoke. “According to some, Pernet’s even involved in scandals regarding her competitors. It’s what keeps her up at the tippy top.”

“Well, this works out just fine.”

Ann was now on her feet with her fists clenched tightly enough to draw blood. “I was ticked off at that snob enough before. If she’s hurting people just to coddle up to pretty boys, we’ve got a majorly good reason to take her down.”

“Hell, yeah!” Ryuji pumped his fist as he rose beside her. “Pernet’s as rotten as they come! We got ourselves a target.”

“Well, then…” Akira side-glanced Futaba. The young hacker turned to the Meta-Nav again.

“Camille Pernet.”

_*BEEP*_

“Got it.” Futaba smirked.

“Alright, then. Business as usual.” Yusuke leaned in. “Where would the location of her Palace be?”

“It’s likely to be some place where someone of her standing has influence.” Haru cupped her chin to her fingers in thought. “Considering she is a guest of Mr. Agreste and a renowned fashion critic, someplace related to that.”

“If we look at it as a place where she wants to showcase her dominance over the fashion world, how about the Grand Palais?” Makoto suggested. “It’s commonly used as an exhibition hall for fashion shows here in France. Various events are held there as well.”

_“Candidate found.”_ The app rung. A pulse of otherworldly energy was felt vibrating in the air.

“Two down!” Ryuji cheered. “Now, the distortion.”

“Wait, what the heck!?”

They all jumped at Futaba’s yell. Darting her glance around at each of their stares, she flipped the phone over in her hand. They all inspected the phone screen, minding the stylized design of the app in red and black spirals befitting their aesthetic, in Yusuke’s words. What made their jaws drop was at the bottom of the screen.

There were _two_ fields for distortion.

Eight mouths hung loose from their jaws with cracks of voices coming through every now and again. One manner of utterly warped thought was enough to set the background for the more interesting Palaces. They could certainly attest for doing things that they could say weren’t even on the bucket lists of most teenagers. Moreover they were expectant that even a man-made Meta-Nav was sure to border on the edge between strange and ludicrous.

But this…

“W-What in the-!?” Morgana yowled. “There’s no way for a person to have two distortions! It’s just impossible!”

“What on Earth is this…?” Yusuke cupped his hands to his chin, appearing calm but with eyes widened. “Do you suppose this might be a sign of some mental instability?”

“Futaba, what is going on!?” Ryuji shouted. “Your app don’t got any glitches or anything, does it!?”

“D-Don’t look at me!” The girl responded. “This is the first time I’ve even used it! I didn’t even have time for the beta before we started packing!”

“So, what? This thing ain’t even tested!?”

“Guys, cool it!” Everyone turned to Akira. Their leader had his hand on Futaba and taken the phone from her hand. The two empty fields in the area almost evoked a chill from him, but he wore skin as well as any mask. “Maybe it is a glitch. Either way, let’s not dwell on it.”

“Akira-kun’s right.” Makoto nodded. “Let’s focus on Pernet’s keywords for the moment. We could well be overreacting to a bug. Perhaps it will still only take one word.”

Ann crossed her arms and leaned into Akira with the phone in his hand. “Well, I’ve got a good guess. That Pernet acts like she’s some sort of goddess and looks down on everybody like they’re just flawed creations. I’d have to think she sees her little domain of the perfect as ‘heaven.’”

The pulse of mental force permeated the air again. Flashes of the very realm Pernet envisioned could almost be seen. Their hotel room was set into a dull shade but with a blinding flash at the same time. Its sudden brilliance forced them all to blink or shake their heads.

Morgana, eyes gleaming, recovered first. “Incredible, Lady Ann! You guessed it on the first try! You’re so amazing…”

Akira pressed the button for access.

Nothing.

“It’s still not working…?” Haru asked, sweating.

“So then, it truly does require two distortions?” Yusuke wondered.

The silence vice-gripped their forearms. Ryuji swallowed and growled. “Ah, the heck with it! Somebody make another guess!”

Grasping at straws of understanding, the others complied. The underlying question was, how does a person see the world in two distinct ways? There could be exceptions to places or people or things, the effects of childhood memories or trauma, or another passion she secretly harbored. An enormous public reputation, scant rumors, strong secrecy, and the prodigal child called logic born from psychology scratched all that off.

There was nothing left but to make random guesses. It became a pinball game of thoughtless answers with no point or trajectory. ‘Jail’ was one guess, ‘hospital’ was another, ‘cavern’ was another still. Each one came up the same, with veins throbbing on their heads at the repeated rejection.

Ann exhaled, loudly. “This is getting us nowhere…”

“Actually, there’s something else we need to consider.” Morgana spoke, sitting up straight. His tail flicked as he looked Akira in the eye. “The matter of what Pernet might have done to Silva. The two distortions aside, that’s another abnormal factor.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you all know, a Palace is the manifestation of the distorted cognitions within the mind of a person with strong desires. Regardless of the circumstances of its creation, it doesn’t grand the person any kind of special abilities. Distortion is what it is, and all it is.”

Ann sank into the velvet cushions again. “Yeah, but what else could have happened? It’s not like she had this world-changing chat with him, did she?”

“Perhaps some kind of major event happened that changed his viewpoint…” Yusuke mused.

“You don’t think Silva’s just uber messed up ‘cause he’s constantly being turned into a supervillain, do you?” Ryuji asked.

“I don’t really see how any of that could have so drastically changed his viewpoints.” Haru spoke. The others saw her head bow, fading into old pains. “To think that he would become such a different person that he would discard all the enthusiasm he put into his work. Honestly, I am quite disappointed that he would give up on the rainforest.”

_“Candidate found.”_

The group startled. The pulse came once more, even stronger this time. Distortions weighed the atmosphere down around them. In the blackness, trails of substance ran along their feet, tearing through the couch and breaking the marble floors.

“Wait… the second keyword is ‘rainforest?’” Makoto stammered.

“She sees the venue as… heaven and a rainforest?” Yusuke murmured.

“Maybe this lady is mental…” Ryuji commented snidely.

“Well, now I really want to get a look at this place.” Akira spoke, standing. He pressed the button on the nav. The familiar sense of the world around them melting and spiraling into something else that made their senses churn and vanish began. They braced themselves for whatever was to come.

_“Beginning navigation.”_

* * *

Once their perceptions had been set right, the first thing they had caught was the vines snaking around their feet. Akira lifted his foot and shook off the coil that had caught it. Ryuji and Futaba near tripped over their own feet with the thick brambles reaching to their ankles. It was an instant reminder of Pernet’s strange second keyword. It was utterly confusing. The only connection between Pernet and a rainforest would likely have been her desire to give nature a makeover for the grievous sin of clashing green with brown hues.

True to any Palace, Morgana’s appearance had changed. Their little normal black cat had been turned into the large-headed mascot of the Phantom Thieves, his collar morphed into a dashing scarf and a belt filled with gadgets. Their little guide zoomed out the door in a cloud of moss and dust.

They followed him through the double doors down the hall and to the fire escape. An emptiness had come into the entire hotel, where moss and vines engulfed the once splendorous grandeur out of memory and existence. The red velvet walls and golden trimmed carpets were lost to foliage like vision lost in shadows painted a dirty green. Ascending, the steps nearly crumbled with the weight of eight sets of feet running across them. They’d had to catch each other as pieces broke off into a leafy abyss. Ann had almost bumped her head on a massive tree branch that jutted from a broken wall behind her.

They reached the fire escape and burst it open. The calm night sky was swallowed into clouds of warped thoughts, turning into a sinister red storm. At least, red was the assumed color. The Phantom Thieves all shielded their eyes turning to wards the source of a blinding light.

“W-What the hell!?” Ryuji shouted.

Miles away from the rooftop they were on, across miles of Parisian architecture devore by jungle, floated a massive castle in the clouds. Its radiance reflected between pillars of gold and silver and the massive halo above it stung at the eyes. It hummed a maddening hum, an operatic tone of vanity. Behind their arms shielding their visions, they could see the clouds around it churn and swirl into the streets below, dissolving into a glittering sheen. It gave a sheen even to the bark of the surrounding trees.

“The clash between themes is stinging to the eyes.” Yusuke fumed, turning his back to the Palace proper. “There is no harmony, no sense of unity in this abhorrent realm. It is demented even by the standards of Palaces.”

“How can two different distortions even exist to begin with?” Ann questioned.

“Wait, something’s coming!” Haru yelled.

A large shape swooped by them, far too large to be any sort of jungle bird. They ducked down before whatever it was could knock them upside the head. They all rose to gander at the creature and gaped.

It certainly wasn’t a jungle bird. It was too furry, with limbs too plump, and heaving with every beat of its… wings. A gorilla, a winged gorilla, hooting and grunting as any gorilla would. They followed the hybrid creature as it sailed clumsily across the sky towards the Palace.

Futaba shook her head. “Jeez, now I’ve seen everything.”

“Wait,” Akira held out his hand. “It’s saying something.”

They listened in, making out words in the gorilla’s grunts. “Ooh, ooh, see the goddess.” “Become disciple, ooh, ooh.” “Me ugly, ooh-eeh-ooh.” “Goddess make me pretty, ooh-ooh.”

“The goddess will… make her pretty?” Yusuke mused. “Wait, this ‘goddess’ must be referring to Pernet, right?”

“Become her disciple, make her pretty…” Haru wondered. “Pernet owns her own fashion brand, so that means…”

“They want to join her brand and become part of her ‘heavenly kingdom.’” Makoto surmised. “In other words, these are likely how all those aspiring young female models are viewed by Pernet.”

“For real!?” Ryuji stomped his foot and shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking up dust. “She thinks those girls are all a bunch of dirty stinkin’ apes!?”

“Okay, this lady is dead meat!” Ann yelled.

“I have to admit, even I’ve never seen anything like this. But despite everything, we’ve managed to infiltrate Pernet’s Palace.” Morgana hopped onto the railing and turned to address them, Akira specifically. “What do you want to do? Should we head over and scope it out?”

Akira cast a line of focus across the horizon, glaring at the gaudy Palace as though it were mud. Its faux glitter drew a number of those winged apes towards it, luring them with false visions of dreams achieved. No doubt inside must have been several winding pathways and routes like the strings of promises Pernet made to unsuspecting victims. He shut his eyes with a thousand thoughts running behind closed lids.

“We’ve had a big day already.” He spoke with his back turned still to the group. “Let’s pace ourselves. We’ll start exploring tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Morgana asked.

Akira nodded.

At least now they had an idea of what they were up against.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done. A little shorter this time, probably because it was mostly a Phantom Thieves-centric chapter. At the very least, we’re getting the ball rolling.
> 
> A lot of you will likely be scratching your heads at what happened here. Two distortions? Normally that shouldn’t be possible, and you’d be right. Let’s just move this story along and see how many can put the clues together. Maybe some readers already have an idea. Just know that I am going somewhere with this.
> 
> I am a bit on the ball about doing a whole chapter solely based on the exploration of the Palace. On the one hand, I know it’s cool to see the Thieves move about, but this isn’t JUST a P5 story. I have to put focus on the Miraculous characters as well. The next chapter will see them cross paths again, all leading up to the eventual meeting and team-up. I do just want to focus on the important parts. Also remember, they are thieves, so they must do this craftily, rather than just look around and fight Shadows.
> 
> I am also getting stuff in the works for another story, a Digimon story. Then there’s also my latest HTTYD fanfic that I want to get back to after leaving it aside for a test reaction. I think it did well enough. Eventually, I will be alternating between updates for those three, so you know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

Another day came, and with it, another destructive tantrum from Archangel.

Cat Noir carried on from the battle to his windowsill, an in a flash left behind a battered Adrien. He hopped to the floor and the tremor vibrated throughout his body reawakening the wounds. Ladybug’s Miraculous never erased the feeling of the many bruises he endured in battle, only the bruises themselves. It painted a pretty picture out of Paris buildings and structures, but metal could never feel pain as the body did.

His legs, as though tied to a city bus, dragged slowly on the wood floor to his bed. Adrien didn’t really sit on his bed once he got there so much as his knee bumped the mattress and he fell limp into the bedspread. The softness caressed his cheek as he rolled back to face the ceiling. Its white expanse mingled with the flash of memory.

Archangel had been especially aggressive today – that constant holy aura of his had almost morphed into a fiery blaze that melted the sidewalk. Silva’s Akumatization and promise of divine vengeance upon inferior mortals had today been triggered by an incorrect order on a box of chocolates. The man once seemed like an upstanding citizen, devoted to his work, whereas now he could get angry if the sun didn’t rise quick enough. It was a far cry from the comic books when Hawk Moth could create supervillains over the silliest of reasons.

Adrien winced, taking in a sharp breath of chilly afternoon air. Silly reasons did not stop Akumas from hitting hard. He raked his ring hand through his unkempt hair.

“Care to explain where you were?” A cold, professional voice asked.

Adrien sat straight, life rushing back into his limbs. Nathalie stood at the door, tablet in hand. She had entered as silent as mist and now stood before his bed rigid as a glacier.

“I was…” His pupils darted to the side. “Out?”

The secretary’s eyes narrowed behind her frames. “You missed an important fitting for the first shoot this weekend. Your father is very displeased.”

“I tried calling him before. He didn’t answer.”

“Mr. Agreste was handling other matters.” Nathalie spoke with ease.

Adrien looked away as the rest of his body shifted to face her, almost robotically. “I don’t understand, though. My father should have finished the designs before. They know my measurements and everything.”

“You know your father prefers to have you close, Adrien.”

Close, or rather joined at the hip. Adrien winced, slapping his inner self for daring to complain. This was his father, so despite the rolling waves of hot and cold blood rolling from this throat to this stomach, he took a breath.

“Nathalie, could you… help me convince my father to let me attend school?” The boy gulped. His hands gripped the sheets, digging into fine cotton of all things for strength. “I don’t need to attend classes or anything. I just want to help my friends decorate for Christmas and help set up the events. Just for a couple of days!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“But, Nathalie!”

“You’ve been taking too many liberties lately, Adrien. Disappearing at random intervals without any explanation. Your father has insisted that you devote the coming month to your career.” The woman adjusted her glasses. “One day you will inherit the Gabriel brand. A standard high school will ultimately contribute nothing to that.”

Her words triggered a defensive instinct in Adrien that called his attention to his schoolbag settled on the arm of the couch before the window. For a month it would gather dust, have its pages wrinkled, and otherwise sit there unused. He stood despite the ache in his limbs to the bag and reached for his science booklet, almost cradling the spine in his hand to soothe it from the pain of neglect. The book sagged ever slightly as if knowing what was to come, painting a grimace on his face.

Nathalie, oblivious, looked to her tablet and began swiping and tapping the screen. “I’ll be rescheduling your fitting and moving up the time for your rehearsal. I’m sorry Adrien, but I won’t be able to do anything for you.”

Adrien nodded.

“…What were you doing, by the way?”

Adrien’s grip tightened on the book, gentleness clouded by turmoil. Ultimately, he shoved the book back into his bag and dropped it by the strap onto the seat. “Nothing… I wasn’t doing anything. Just going for a walk.”

Her face was a mystery to him with his back turned. Heels clacking up to the creak of a closing door signaled she left the room with a silent nod, her standard response.

Once again, he was alone in his room with his kwami indulging himself in a drawer full of fermenting cheese and his inner boot to the face. Sighing and taking his mental lumps, he returned to his bed and reached for his phone in his pocket. He opened the text app and found Nino’s icon and set his thumbs to work.

_Adrien: Sorry, it looks like I’m not going to be helping out after all._

_Nino: Dude, seriously? He’s going Scrooge on you again?_

_Adrien: It’s my fault. I haven’t been putting enough work into the campaign._

_Nino: Exactly what is your old man’s definition of ‘enough’? And what are you up to, anyway?_

_Adrien: I’ve got a lot on my plate. Lots of things, you know?_

_Nino: What kind of things, exactly?_

Adrien stared at the phone, picturing Nino’s confused face on the screen. The one who was supposed to be staring back was… Adrien. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

_Adrien: Just… things._

_…_

_Nino: Right. Things. Must be big things if you can just blow off your dad of all people._

_Nino: Well, this ain’t exactly going to get us into the Christmas spirit. Everybody’ll be bummed but I’m sure we’ll manage. TTYL, once you get out of model jail!_

Adrien stared at the phone screen. For a moment, he imagined the collective fists of his classmates squaring him in the jaw. His face scrunched feeling the impact from each.

He exited the chat with Nino and moved on to Kagami. The key matter, he remembered as his thumbs hovered once again, was to make it sound as formal and delicate as possible. Nino could at least try to sound supportive, whereas with Kagami, there was no roundabout speech, no self-induced illusion. She’d say it flat out.

_Adrien: I won’t be able to do our get-together this weekend. My schedule’s packed._

A minute of staring and tapping his foot with unkempt energy later.

_Kagami: Unfortunate._

_Kagami: You should redouble your efforts to make room for unexpected circumstances. I do not wish for our only get togethers to be defeating you in fencing._

There it was.

Your efforts are never enough – you need to work harder. It had become something of a mantra once Adrien grew out of his kiddie clothes and could fit into designer T-shirts and jackets. Now his supportive efforts for this father’s sake were just making his friends miserable. He could believe that old mantra in full now. They were right to be angry at him for all that he failed to do in managing his own life.

So was Ladybug.

She hadn’t exactly been eager to chat with the cat before or after their meetups and their usual business. Anyone could call it the wear and tear of numerous battles with the same psychopathic man-turned-hostile-angel, but she was all business. All his attempts to cheer her up suddenly weren’t scoring him any points at all. Those attempts were, of course, leading to lackluster movements in battle.

Tossing the phone away, he trudged to the window and leaned his head onto the chilly glass. The icy smoothness pressed the weight down on his shoulders even more. He kept his eyes trailed to the floor to refrain from looking at his sorry reflection.

Plagg zipped and plopped onto his shoulder, a trail of stench in the wake of his flight. “Oh, stop moping!”

“What else can I do outside of my schedule?”

“Sacrifices like this are just part of the whole double-life routine.” The kwami swallowed the chunk of camembert in his paws. “You knew what you were getting into when you signed up. Least, I hope you did.”

“I did… I guess.”

Plagg shrugged. “Eh, works for me.”

Adrien huffed the gloom out his nostrils. “I want to make it up to someone, Ladybug at least. Archangel’s just getting tougher, and I’ve been a total joke lately.”

“About as funny as your normal jokes too.”

The boy turned to the kwami perched on his shoulder. “Would you, uh, happen to know any special Miraculous tricks, or-“

Plagg’s large black head turned away. “Sorry, kid. My lips are sealed, even if you bribe me with cheese like last time.”

“How many times do I have to say sorry? Or please?” Adrien jerked, the simple motion like an earthquake that ejected Plagg off and facing him, floating. “Plagg, you’ve gotta give me something here!”

The kwami gagged. “Ugh, those puppy dog eyes! I need 20 ounces of camembert, stat!”

Plagg floated back to the mound of odor in his side drawer filled with all his fermenting cheese. In mere moments, his mind would be wiped by a brush of foul camembert stench. Even then, there wouldn’t be much point in asking again, Adrien though, as the cycle would just repeat. Plagg was as good at secrets with him as he was with everyone else.

The boy sighed and retreated to his desk. His laptop came alive and he scrolled through the pages with click after click. His usual pages were shrunk: the Ladyblog, the local news, the TV station, and any social media posts. Superhero stories were not as satisfying to read or live these days. In fact, Alya was barely even covering Archangel anymore.

Ladybug. His friends. His father. Now, the public. He disappointed them all.

The last page. The school website.

On the homepage was a brightly colored poster with holly trim and lightbulbs in the corner. He blinked, drawn to the small billboard of an announcement.

‘FRANCOIS DUPONT SCHOLASTIC DECATHALON. DECEMBER 20. COME SIGN UP!’

It came with a small video adjusted to fit the screen. A pop song played as they went across shots of people throughout the campus and special effects far beyond the meagre skills of Professor Damocles. Max clearly helped, most likely since he’d made it no small secret he was signing up. A shot of Damocles in his not-so-secret hero identity, the Owl, wrapped it up with a public announcement to draw the kids in, finishing with his signature pose.

_“Support your school! Hoo-hoo!”_

Adrien swallowed. Math and science were nice changes of pace from just standing around and looking pretty. It meant using his mind other than a bragging point for articles and pooling into the overrunning attraction factor as a model. If he were any other kid, he would be laughed at for liking it, but like it he did.

He sighed.

“Wouldn’t that be nice…”

He closed the top of his laptop. It wasn’t what his father wanted.

* * *

Journeys could take unexpected detours. That applied to trips between reality and the Metaverse as well.

Akira adjusted his eyes to the darkness that appeared out of the swirling blotches that dotted the real world. Chains rattled with a gentle series of clinks and a drop of water resonated throughout the air. His hand reached out to his side and brushed upon a soft padded wall with such a smooth feel it near lulled him to sleep. With a sense of nostalgia he shifted his feet from where he laid on a bench to the floor. His shoes clacked almost silently on the smooth floor.

He walked to the doorway, blocked by iron metal bars. Everything looked the same – a single desk beneath a lone lamp, with azure mist pooling from a rotunda lined with cell doors. A silent, ghostly hum blew in turn with the chains behind, creating a resonance that soothed him to the soul. He stood at the bars, feeling no need to cry out for help or freedom.

It was already his.

“Welcome back, Trickster.” A young girl’s voice came out of nowhere.

Its source was quick to follow from the side of the door. A girl in a blue dress, regal and silent in her steps and taut in posture with the large book in her hand, approached him. Her pale blond hair flowed in slow motion as she turned to him as if lifted by some unseen force. The butterfly charm in her headband twinkled with the light.

“Lavenza…” Akira whispered.

Her familiar smile reached up to her golden eyes brimming with force like the sun. “It seems that even in a prison cell, you are a free spirit. It suits you, though, I must say.”

Akira looked down. He had become accustomed to the black and white-striped rags and the ball and chain he wore whenever he entered this room in the past. It reflected his role as a ‘prisoner of fate’, a pawn in someone else’s game. This time, he was still in his overcoat and scarf, the same items when he’d arrived. With no sense of temperature in this place, he’d barely noticed either way.

“Welcome once again to the Velvet Room. It seems that once again, you have become entangled in a strange fate.” She nodded shutting her eyes. “Such is the destiny of the Trickster, I suppose.”

“A strange… fate?”

“Indeed. That fate is what has bound you to this place once again. As you know, the Velvet Room is a place for guests who have entered a contract, and we residents provide aid along their journeys.”

Akira hummed.

“Your mission is to find and quell the one who promotes false bonds.”

He blinked. “False… bonds?”

“You possess the power of the Wild Card, the ability to transform bonds into power.” She bowed, as if in respect towards that ability itself. “The potential of humanity, their greatest strength, is found in the bonds they share with one another. It is as a cycle, a string, tied between individuals and creating power, flowing into infinity. I fear ruin shall come once again as the distortion within human hearts is being utilized to duplicate those bonds.”

So someone was doing something strange. And once again, it ties into the Metaverse and Palaces.

“We’re looking into it now.”

Lavenza smiled once again. “I knew you would rise to the challenge. I did see fit to aid you in your endeavors already.”

Akira smiled. “So that’s how Futaba did it.”

The girl covered her mouth. “I would not want to insult your confidant’s abilities. The evil god who once controlled your fate granted you access before. Reaching the Metaverse is no easy task for human minds, even with their great potential. I too can grant you access, as the ruler of power. Use this gift well.”

“We will.” Lavenza nodded.

The room began to go dark. The blue light and comfortable cell, even Lavenza herself, began to slip into shadows.

Her voice called out. “Be aware, Trickster. Soon enough, another will cross paths with you. Once with a special fate of their own. The paths you create and where they lie… will be up to you…”

* * *

The undulating waves of rooftops led the Phantom Thieves to the Palace proper.

From the ledge, a black form leapt and twirled around the distorted rays, bending them into a shadowy swirl. The tails of his overcoat swallowed the gleam and his red gloved hands captured and snuffed it out. Its last glint was caught on the edges of his white mask. His boots landed with precision and carried the force of weight into a tumble, righting himself vigilant by the next ledge. Joker, the trump card who laughed at the rules of reality.

Other figures joined him at the ledge – his friends in their familiar thief garbs. Skull in his armored vest, Panther in her skin-tight suit, Fox in his baggy flowing garb. Queen joined in her suit more akin to steel plates, Oracle in her cybernetic garb, and Noir in her musketeer outfit and Mona rounding out the group.

“This is it, huh?” Joker murmured.

The heavenly castle’s light was now blinding. Even from up close they had to hold their hands up to block out the rays. All that aided them in the encompassing light were dumps of foliage, grown out of the trees enveloping the buildings.

He scoffed as his sight adjusted once more to the Palace’s glow. Pernet seemed to love making impressions.

“Is it just me, or did she turn it up since last night?” Panther groaned.

“Wait, look!”

As the Thieves’ eyes adjusted, they noticed the trees in turn churn and shake, coiling their bark bodies. Their enveloping twists and turns unraveled, quivering, shaking off the wood and leaves and chasing off whatever exotic birds rested on their branches like unkempt layers of grime. In moments they soon became solid towers with its leaves crystalizing into symmetrical shapes. Waves of gold washed over them, polishing them and sending unease through the team.

“What in the… t-the trees!” Queen balked.

“Maybe she… doesn’t like natural fashions?” Skull asked, scratching his head.

“Boo.” Oracle pouted.

“Whatever the case, these trees now seem to match more with the heaven aesthetic rather than the rainforest one.” Fox surmised. “They have lost a sense of organic appeal.”

“Everyone, get down!” Mona cried.

The human thieves followed the cat creature’s call. Brows in line with the surface of the ledge brushing on the brick, they spied guards in golden armor with metallic wings at the pearly gates. Angels flew and swirled baring their spears for any sign of those that wished to cheat their way into the Palace.

One of the many gorillas that swung from the transformed trees flapped his wings and touched down near the gates. From there, the beast galloped on his knuckles and feet as any gorilla would. At the final step the two gatekeepers crossed their spears before the gateway, triggering a bow from the hairy gorilla with a screech. The first few moments were a silent standoff before the gorilla dared to look up.

“Ooh, ooh, please.” The gorilla chanted in a deep voice. It was clearly a male. “Me want to go in, ooh, ooh. Me want to see goddess. Make pretty, ooh, ooh.”

The guards remained silent. Nothing indicated thought; they looked as still as statues.

Until finally, the one to the gorilla’s left spoke.

“Will you swear fealty to Her Radiance?” It spoke. An echo carried its metallic-tinged voice.

“Say what?” Panther jumped. The gorilla grunted.

“Offer your vision and beliefs so that she may guide you to the promised heights.” The guard continued. “Swear fealty.”

“Ooh, ooh. I swear…”

The guards uncrossed their spears. With a rumble that sent quivers into the surrounding clouds, the gate opened. The bars parted to reveal hints of a shimmering garden past the misty glow. The gorilla grunted joyfully and galloped past the sentries into the light. His hulking form vanished, swallowed, as the gates screeched closed once more.

“The Promised Heights.” Queen surmised. “We’ve interpreted those gorillas as normal people through her cognition. They swear loyalty to her in exchange for her guidance.”

“Does that mean those people ignore her criminal acts?” Noir asked.

“Wait.” Joker held out his hand. “Here comes another one.”

The gorilla this time was slightly smaller and hooted in a higher pitched voice. This one had to be a female. She galloped almost faster than the male from before did, and the guards seemed quicker to bar her entry.

As before, the gorilla bowed. “Ooh, ooh! Me want to be pretty! “Ooh, ooh! Let me in!”

“Do you swear fealty?” The guard to the right asked this time.

“Yes, yes! Ooh, ooh! Me swear, me swear!”

The time dragged on even longer. The guards’ spears didn’t lift. There was no heavenly choir as the gates opened to some envisioned paradise. Joker and the others had the collective sinking feeling as to why.

To the side of the top step a path of golden bars appeared, step by step. It trailed around the main grounds of the Palace off into some unknown distance. Skull and Oracle craned their heads trying to catch a glimpse of the end goal, but Joker surmised they had no such luck, for good reason.

The right guard spoke without raising his spear. “Take this path. At the end is the Holy Shrine of Judgment. It is there that the goddess shall take heed unto your unworthy self. The goddess will deliver divine judgment.”

As if without sense or thought, the gorilla took the path. Joker saw her eyes clouded with tints of gold.

Fox lifted his head as he and the other Thieves came to their knees. “Alright. We assume this scenario we saw unfold is in correlation with the models she employs. There is to be an additional step for the women?"

“For real?” Skull asked. “Why do the girls gotta do extra?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a necessary requirement…” Queen mused in thought.

“Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?” Mona raised his paw. Like Queen and Fox, he too had his brow scrunched in thought, drifting to the worst assumptions that were usually proven true. “We might be able to learn more. Let’s go in like the gorillas.”

“I don’t wanna be some model!” Skull pouted.

“Relax. Not like you’re cut out for it anyway…”

The Thieves jumped and reached the streets in unison. The stairway up to the gates had to be a few miles in length, the gates themselves almost slipping from their reach the higher they climbed. Even with the enhanced stamina and endurance their suits gave them, aches began to creep into their legs. Oracle especially was starting to heave from exhaustion.

Only a fraction of them were still fit enough to stand upright by the time they had reached the top. Oracle and Panther sunk to their knees in exhaustion, while Fox had near keeled over. That was the lack of nourishment no doubt. Skull was still standing tall, not even his damaged leg enough to slow him down. Joker had to give a smile at his friend’s own.

As before, the guards crossed their spears. This time they both spoke. “Who goes there?”

“Eep! I don’t have the stats for this!” Oracle squeaked.

“We wish to pass.” Joker stated unwavering. “We want to see the goddess.”

“How strange to be using the front door. It’s not very thief-like…” Noir spoke to herself.

“Do you swear fealty to Her Radiance?”

“Of course.” The words almost slid off Joker’s tongue.

The others balked at how quick he was to speak. He either signed them up for imaginary hell or gave an invitation for those spears to end up in front of their faces. Queen was shaking her head in disbelief out his peripheral.

Nonetheless, the scrape of metal released came and the gates groaned open. “Only the four males may be granted entry. The rest are to be sent to the Holy Shrine.”

“Hold on a minute.” Panther cocked her brow. “Why do only the boys get in with no strings attached?”

“Be silent, wench.” The second guard replied. “Swine are not allowed to sully the heavens.”

“EXCUSE ME!?” Panther glowered. The other girls were clenching their fists as well.

“Do you wish to be cast to the depths?” The first guard spoke.

“Alright, now I’m pissed!” Panther broke out her whip. Joker’s hand caught her wrist.

“Wait a minute. Let us proceed ahead.” Joker whispered in her ear. “We need to check every possible route for the Treasure. Plus, we don’t really know what this ‘Holy Shrine’ is supposed to be about. Could be our chance to get some clues.” His gaze steeled on the guards for any sudden movements that might lead to a rise in security.

“Don’t worry, Lady Ann!” Mona pounded his chest. “I’ll tear these Shadows to shreds for daring to insult a lady!”

Panther nodded. “Thanks, Mona.”

A holographic screen with lists of numbers and code formed from behind them. Already, Oracle was typing away on a keyboard with text scrolling across her goggles by the second. “Okay. If you guys are heading in, look for a terminal of some kind. Anything that might look like a computer. I think I can get a scan of the layout here.”

“You really expect us to find some tech in a big ol’ heaven-y place like this?” Skull gestured to the large towers before them.

“Every game world’s got a glitch or two.” Oracle chuckled. “Just keep an eye open.”

“We’ll approach from the back.” Queen added. “We’ll try and figure something out about this ‘Holy Shrine.’”

Joker nodded. The two groups went off their separate ways. Though keeping his cool as always there was still that old tingle in the back of Joker’s spine. Splitting up in enemy territory was never a good idea, even with supernatural powers.

The first thing they noticed going through the gates was the smooth, reflective ground outside giving way to a vast field of greenery in full bloom within walls of clouds. Flowers and butterflies lined the edges of their sights and water flowed so serenely into pools as clear as crystal, sparkling upon hitting the surface. Birds chirping, the occasional thunk of ripened fruit hitting the ground, and a warm sensation that refreshed the soul. It was so perfect; it was mocking to whatever trash dumb had been near forgotten behind them.

Joker led the team to the large stone archway at the end of the vast field. Angelic beings above them paid them no mind, even in their rather obvious attire. Anyone who passed through the gates was no threat, no possible danger to their ‘goddess.’ The thought extended from the ruler to her Shadows – who in their right mind would sacrifice such paradise as the one she would grant in exchange for fealty?

Passing through the arch, the crossed another column-lined flight of stairs to a subsequent platform. A left and then a right turn led them up another stairway that spiraled around a long cloud tower. Heaven was as up above as it got, Joker thought; the addition of multiple flights of stairs was ridiculously redundant. Perhaps Pernet placed herself as higher than even the gods. A final right at the top led them into a small building lined with streams falling into a cloudy, bright abyss. Whatever area looked to be the shadiest seemed like a good hiding spot, although such spots were limited in a Palace based on heaven.

They ran down a long hallway lined with torches lit with orbs of light into a small room. There was not much else inside save for a pedestal with a floating scroll. Set in the middle of the room, with seemingly no defenses to it. Joker’s senses were a screeching red sign – no way that this wasn’t important.

“Think that might be the terminal?” Mona asked.

“Only one way to find out!” Skull cried.

Gathered at the scroll, Joker’s senses came alive. This was the moment. In an instant, haloes surrounded them and unleashed beams of light. The glows subsided and they found themselves surrounded by at least eight guards at spearpoint. The boys spun and pressed their backs simultaneously.

“Halt! Outsiders are not allowed into this room!”

The Shadows burst out of their armor in explosions of black liquid. Shapes rose from the pools beneath them. Creepy and grotesque by any standard, but experience had made Joker numb to the sight. The guards had now become angels bound in chains suspended by their wrists.

Fox’s hand rested on the hilt of his katana. “Well this wasn’t entirely unexpected.”

“So much for boys getting a free pass.” Joker murmured.

“Oh, shut up! Skull cried. “This is the good part!”

“RAVAGE THEM, ARSÉNE!”

“BLAST ‘EM AWAY, CAPTAIN KIDD!”

“ZORRO, SHOW YOUR MIGHT!”

“GOEMON, STRIKE!”

The boys tore off their masks. The torturous sense of skin ripping from their faces and pools of blood passed instantly. That blood would burn in blue flames, releasing their Personas behind them.

Arséne, clenching his fingers with a fiery grin on his mask, unfurled his wings and unleashed a black whirlwind. The toxic energy churned and hummed in a sinister air. At his side was Goemon, his Japanese garb flapping as he sucked in a breath from his elongated pipe. He breathed it out as a chilling smog, sparkling and freezing the ground mere inches away. The ice and darkness swirled in a dance that tore the immediate Shadows to pieces.

Half of the remaining guards were knocked by a pulse of swirling wind. In between the gaps was the black clad Zorro, pointing his rapier that carried green gusts. The other half were blasted by blasts of electricity that rang like cannon shots. Captain Kidd, surfing the flames atop his skateboard-sized ship, grinned as he pointed his cannon arm.

White and black darts exploded out of the colliding mists. They darted and bounced around the room and slashed into the Shadows. They flailed their arms in vain, the movements too fast to see or guard. To the Thieves, their enemies were at a near stand-still until the final moment. They returned to the mist as the enemies exploded with blood.

The shadow and ice expanded, bursting in a flash. Only the four thieves stood, in a dark pallor with glittering ice showering them. A hidden code of the Phantom Thieves – look stylish while kicking butt.

Footsteps came from the hallway. The boys turned and relaxed. The girls’ forms came into view.

“Looks like you guys did okay.” Panther laughed.

“What’cha expect?” Skull flexed his arm grinning.

“Is that the terminal we need?” Noir looked past them to the scroll behind.

“Maybe.” Oracle moved towards it. “Give me a sec.”

Her fingers moved with blinding speeds. If it were any other keyboard, it might have been set on fire. Joker crossed his arms with a rise to his chest. Everyone on the team had their skills, but Oracle’s was never a bore to behold.

“Okey-doke! I got us a map!”

“Shall we move onward?” Fox asked.

However, just as they all took the first step out the room…

The space swirled and warped. The lights dimmed and flashed in intervals. Their feet slowly gained weight and feeling returned beneath their heels. Joker looked into his hands which lit with flame, his gloves and coat peeling off and revealing normal skin to his widened eyes.

“W-What the hell’s goin’ on!?” Skull shouted. The echo was the last thing that came to ear…

* * *

…Before they found themselves back on the street corner they met at.

Traffic was buzzing in the mid-to-late shopping rush that came with Christmas. Families and lovers were walking down the street hand in hand. It was becoming rare in their eyes to see anyone walking alone in the sidewalks of Paris. Volunteer figures were ringing their bells for donations, all dress in red with accent of holly with fresh pine scents.

They themselves stood balking at it all, not so much happy as they were head-spun. They were back in their winter wear, staring at the scenery as if it were an alternate planet. The Metaverse was hardly fun with all the fighting for their lives they had to do, but no one was ready to call it quits just yet.

“W-What’s going on?” Ann asked. “How did we come back so soon?”

“No one reactivated the Nav, right?” Makoto followed, looking at all of them.

“I don’t believe anyone even reached for their phones.” Yusuke mused. “It simply happened.”

“Looks like my homemade Meta-Nav had some glitches after all. It might have some kind of time-out function.” Futaba admitted, sagging. “I was so proud out it too…”

“There, there, Futaba-chan.” Haru tried to console. “You couldn’t have known.”

Akira didn’t have the heart to tell her the app only worked in the first place due to Lavenza’s interference. Futaba was proud of her hacking and programming skills. It just proved there were things even the original Medjed couldn’t do.

“Well, this sucks.” Ryuji said. “Should we just jump back in, then?”

“I think we might just run into the same problem. It would be ineffective to jump back if Futaba’s Nav can only get us in for periods at a time.” Makoto hummed to the group.

“So, what?” Ann shouted. “We just call it quits for the day? What about finding the Treasure!?”

“Calm down. Everything’s all right.” Mona appeared, back in his cat form, at their feet. “We don’t have the pressure of a time limit this time. We can take our time as we investigate, and we’ll have to learn to make the most of our time as well.”

Akira nodded. “Either way, we’re going to have to work a little smarter here. This’ll be harder than we thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps this one up.
> 
> Fun story about this chapter. At first it was going to be very different. I had planned for them reaching the Treasure already just jumping past everything else. I feel like the step-by-step progression of traversing through the Palace wouldn’t work in what could be akin to a novel. Then I remember viewing my notes for the plot of the story and saw that I was supposed to include that scene for Adrien that explains his character arc in this a little more.
> 
> Then came the reviews for the last chapter – one user on Fanfiction wrote that it was a bit farfetched that Futaba could create her own Meta-Nav. I did have an original reasoning for this in mind but it would have been hard to explain for anyone who didn’t know about Persona 5 Scramble’s plot. I can say another reason was because of Wakaba, who somehow managed to discover the Metaverse herself without any divine intervention, as far as we know, hence her cognitive psience research. I even gave a hint as to that being the source of the idea in the last chapter if anyone caught it.
> 
> On top of that a user on AO3 asked if I had plans to include the Velvet Room crew in this. Honestly, I did not. I didn’t have anything planned for them at all. But regarding the issue of explaining Futaba’s Meta-Nav, I felt like it would have been a simpler approach to just say Lavenza intervened.
> 
> To sum it up, this chapter was half-planned, half-improv on my part. I hope it turned out well; I’ll let you decide on that end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

A daily time limit meant stealth and speed was the name of the game. For each of the Phantom Thieves, both their guts and legs were burning with uncontrolled fire.

They had ascended several more levels and passed through ornate hallways with multiple long staircases in between. If Panther saw one more staircase after this, she was going to be sick. Her legs may have well become as toned as an Olympic bodybuilder’s at this point, which was a gag-worthy thought in itself. Battles were becoming fewer and farther between as well to maximize their time in traversal. The afternoon of Thursday and they were two-thirds of the way in.

Oracle’s downloaded layout of the Palace had come in handy. Between her and Queen, they had calculated however much time was needed to rest in Safe Rooms and moved on. There were still several unexplored areas drawing big question marks, particularly a large room projected before the hall with the Treasure.

Out of the last Safe Room, they bolted and slithered in between rows of columns. Panther pressed her back to the stone and breathed hard. Shadows shifted between the gaps in their vision, a soft hum emitting from their wings. They dashed the moment the elongated shades drifted by and the hums faded from their ears.

A trio of angelic guards sailed overhead. The Thieves concealed their bodies in the rolling waves of clouds just as they came overhead. Despite the comfortable temperature, sweat rolled down the model’s skin into her tight leather suit.

In the distance, more of the trees shifted and straightened. Waves of gold washed over them as their stares went rigid.

“Come on.” Panther heard Joker whisper.

She nodded.

They clocked their bodies into the cumulus walls, almost dissolving into mist. A legion of soldiers floated past them, oblivious to the eight intruders, their spears raised upwards.

Nearing the next entrance, Joker stopped cold. Without warning, he flipped back onto a nearby platform and somersaulted onto the tip of the rightmost ring of columns. The others followed suit, their bodies suddenly weightless from the burst of power in their legs. Spread out among the columns, they watched over the large rotunda.

Between large pillars and a ring of mist gathered at their borders, this had all the makings of an important room. Sentries formed a smaller ring to look on in judgment, their spears tipped to refract the light ready to gut a nearby victim. An enormous fountain that spilled pure light rimmed the overhead above the center in the view of anyone there, where a skyscraper of a tower emerged with its tip barely visible leering down. It cast a tenseness over Panther that she scarcely remembered from Shujin and the law enforcement districts in Japan.

“What do you think’s happenin’ here?” Skull asked.

“That tower up ahead may be where the Treasure is.” Mona noted. “It’s also possible that Pernet’s Shadow is there.”

Across the way, Panther caught Fox framing the tower for reference. She shook her head.

At the same time, her knuckles clenched on her whip. “Something’s coming…”

From the opposite end of the room came a gorilla with an angel soldier right behind her. The smaller size hinted at it behind a female. The cognitive victim was knocked behind the head and crashed her knees on the polished golden floor, bowing her head. All around her, the angels tapped their spears in uniformity.

An artificial sun rose from behind the onlooking tower as searing as the genuine article. Rays almost assaulted and tore through the backdrop like javelins piercing through stone. Panther’s gloved hand shielded her eyes, catching wind of the others doing the same.

One such ray blasted the bound and huddled gorilla in the center. She screamed in agony.

**“Unworthy…”**

Everyone jumped. A distorted voice thundered throughout the air, laced with arrogance. It was Pernet’s.

**“Thou art riddled with impurities. Thou hast tasted the skin of another male. Made dealings with the demonic…”**

“What!? Ooh-ooh!” The gorilla screeched.

**“Thou hast spoken lies of thy heritage. Stolen thy garments from all manner of sources. Committed acts of heresy. So says the Goddess, the one who dictates all…”**

“T-That not-“

**“SO SAYS THE GODDESS!”**

The gorilla bowed. “O-oooh… so says… the goddess…”

Pernet huffed. **“You are not worthy to enter the realm of the divine. Begone!”**

In an instant, the solid golden ground became fog beneath the gorilla’s feet. Her large fingers grabbed the rim before gravity could work its magic. The nearest sentry in front of the gorilla jabbed its spear onto her hands. She shrieked falling into the clouds below.

The light faded, and the sun set. All was as it was before.

Panther’s fists clenched all the way back to her sides. She knew it before Pernet’s Shadow even started spewing those ‘sins.’ Every one was a lie.

“It seems the rumors are true.” Queen noted, her voice crackling with static through Oracle’s link between them. “Pernet conceived scandals to eliminate models she doesn’t favor.”

“So… then, this is…” Panther mumbled.

“Yes. There’s a possibility this is the Holy Temple that we heard mentioned.”

“What do you think happened to that person?” Noir noted with concern.

“She was expelled to the heavens only to be cast into the abyss.” Fox answered standing. “The only view here is from heaven. I doubt their fate is any of Pernet’s concern.”

“Aside from that, there’s something else.” Mona called out. His paw pointed to the tower.

“You think that’s it?” Panther asked.

“Yeah. If it’s where Pernet’s Shadow is, then we can make a fair guess that’s where the Treasure is as well.”

“For real!? You gotta be frickin’ kidding me!” Skull face-palmed. “How the hell are we supposed to get up there?”

“My physical stat’s not the best…” Oracle noted. She broke out her screen and typed. “On top of that, you got your searchlights, guards, even a bit of a security system. Yours truly can knock that out, though.”

“The rest should be manageable as well.” Queen concluded. “We can clear this out in a matter of moments.”

“Let’s make it quick, people. We’re on the clock.” Joker said.

“Hell yeah!” Panther shouted with a fist pump. “Time to let loose!”

A spear shot past her. She craned her head down.

The soldiers were aiming right at them. It slipped her mind that they were still atop the columns and were supposed to be silently spying. She dodged a second blast by a few hairs that drifted off.

Like a leaf from a tree she spun in her descent. Her heels clacked on the ground, shattering the spot. Out of those cracks, tendrils of blue flame rose in place, tracing the curves of her body and flowing freely to her hand. She ripped off her mask. A lightning bolt of pain shot through, replaced with a rush of power.

“DANCE, CARMEN!”

A pillar of blue and red flames emerged behind her. They dissipated to reveal the image of a crimson-skinned woman in a seductive, frilly dress, fondling the thorns with which she ensnared bodies with heart-shaped heads, drooling in ecstasy. The air hissed as she breathed in the cigar caught between her fangs, the Persona’s irritation now a ball of fire. She huffed, spitting the ball at the soldiers. The temple trembled at the detonating fire.

Panther’s gun loaded, she fired. A rainstorm of bullets came through the plumes of fire. Imaginary lead was the best outlet she could have for how much she wanted to rip Pernet apart. At her sides were Fox and Joker, taking aim. Fox’s shots came just as quick, the bullets now a torrent. Joker’s hit each square in the head. They dissolved before they could take form.

One guard managed to dissolve its divine guise. It became an armored soldier with wings and a crafted mask of a face. It raised its sword and swung it down like a hammer.

“CHARGE, JOHANNA!”

Queen’s form was a bullet itself. Atop her silver motorcycle Persona, she spun on her front wheel. The flaming blood across her face highlighted a shared rage between her and Panther. The rear met the Shadow’s steel in near slow motion. Its blade shattered, pieces flying several yards.

The Shadow followed a fair distance after them.

It rose its head to an engine’s roar. Queen and her bike were airborne by several feet. Johanna’s front wheel cycled with blue, vibrating waves of energy. It crashed into the Shadow’s face, burning it away. Queen revved the throttle, the wheel spinning faster. Soon the Shadow dissolved into nothing but ashes.

Black bolts, gusts of ice and fire, and multiple shots later, the room was now free of guards.

They startled as the lights hit them. Orbs drifting on the winds floated and surrounded them. As soon as they came, they shattered. The Thieves on the ground flinched.

Still on top of the pillar’s Skull grinned. “You’re welcome.” He cocked his launcher.

“Just a few more!” Noir called, doing the same.

The two and their heavy firepower made short work of those searchlights. They still did their job as solders appeared from the far corners of the horizon. This time they drifted as fast as drifting could go. Ten more Shadows were now pointing their spears down their throats.

They shifted in between shots and their Personas’ attacks. It appeared they would strike one moment, but the victory would soon fade. The Shadows emerged as bound angels once more. Their voices called haloes that sharpened to razor-tipped arrows of light. They pierced the ground quick as lighting. Cuts were quick to form on their skins.

“ZORRO!”

Mona called leaping from Joker’s shoulder. Zorro emerged and thrust his rapier. Sharp-tipped gusts struck the light arrows at their tips. Their clashes resulted in firework shows of white and green.

The cat broke out his slingshot. Joker took his pistol and kneeled. Their eagle eyes landed their bullets into the joints of their wings. The angels plummeted towards the ground…

…Where a cyclone of flames awaited them. Carmen tapped her heels and spun with her head held high. The thorny binds and rims of her dress went aglow with furious flames. Lathing close and breaking free, they became fiery waves that burned the Shadows’ bodies back to black. The angels’ screams echoed into oblivion. The flames cleared to reveal Carmen fading, leaving Panther in a mist of ashes.

“Impressive as always, Panther!” Mona sighed.

The cat thief winked. “Let’s get that Treasure.”

“How’s Oracle doing?” Fox asked sheathing his blade.

“Aaaaaand… done!”

They turned to Oracle. In the chaos her dark suit had melded into a column’s shade. Rings of data with alien symbols orbited and surrounded her as she typed at breakneck speeds. One last tap, and everything had faded.

“Took a look at the specs for that tower. Managed to get us a back-door in. Although…” The clouds at the base of the tower parted like a curtain. They revealed a platform at the bottom, torch-like haloes at the corners. “Our back door’s kinda the front door.”

“For a second, I thought it was gonna be more stairs…” Skull sighed in relief.

The whole stair thing was becoming clear to Panther. Ever higher climbs and even steeper falls meant to push in the fact Pernet believed herself above other people. The thief huffed as she made her way to the platform.

Panther was no fool, at least not the fool she was in her early modeling days in the previous year. The one who could shove chocolate crepes down her throat and still look good in a size two or bust out a gold credit card for anything. Most girls didn’t have her kind of connections or blessings. It took skill, determination, and an iron will in what was likely hundreds of doors shutting in their faces. Those girls were part of her drive as well, even if they loathed her.

For some pompous snob in a glittery feather boa with the archetypal cigar to blow smoke and say you weren’t good enough? That was a slap to Panther’s own face as well. Those wings were dreams, the things that kept them up at night and looking for another gig the next day in the climb to the top. To think Pernet saw that as something… deformed.

She’d be the one falling from these heights soon enough.

The orbs glowed and the platform lifted. They were being carried through waves of falling cloud wisps. Through the mist Panther caught sight of the final gate, creaking open. Everyone huddled, cloaking themselves in the mist and the ledge. With precious minutes left they would not risk running into Pernet and bolstering the security again.

The platform stopped, level with the ledge. They saw no sign of Pernet through the golden bars.

They did see a shapeless blur levitating above a pedestal.

“Yes!” Mona jumped. “We’ve found the Treasure!”

“That was a little close for comfort…” Noir sighed.

“Let’s hurry and get a look at this thing before we warp back.” Joker said running.

The group of eight was a galloping herd of frenzied horses caring little for security this late in the game. They gathered around the shapeless core on all sides. It drifted lazily, a black shape in the middle larger than normal at its center, shifting between forms that might be discerned. But then…

“…no…rs…lov…”

Each of the Thieves jerked back. It was faint, near dismissed as a mental trick. But it was there.

“A voice?” Joker asked.

The cognitive world wavered and rippled. Time was up for today. But the end would leave thoughts to linger on.

* * *

A slipper-covered foot stepped into a puddle, freezing its owner to the bone from down upward. Marinette had skin like steel and aside from that, her blood was racing. Which was ironic since Place de Vogues square wasn’t that far a jog from Francois Dupont.

Still, time was a precious currency she couldn’t afford to waste on leniency. The weekend was coming by faster than she could blink. Adrien had not been to school in the last couple of days with the winter Gabriel campaign taking off. That would mean a whole month of cozying up to that Japanese model getting sized for kimonos and eating sushi by the fireplace on tender nights. Not gonna happen.

She clenched her gift in her hands as she rounded the corner. A corner bounced back with the tape exposed. Skidding, she yelped and stuck it back in place with her thumbs.

“Come on, come on. Please, just stick on…”

Tikki peeked her head out from Marinette’s side purse. “Marinette! You really should have just dropped the gift off at his house! You still have a lot of homework to do, then there’s the errands for the other kwamis, and to top it off, you’re going to be late for patrol!”

“I know, Tikki, I know!” She whimpered. “I just want to give him the gift personally!”

“Why is it so important to deliver it in person this time?”

“It… it just is! It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Marinette…”

The girl wrung her fingers, the wrapping lightly jabbing her. “No words, no incessant babbling. I’ll just give it to him!”

“That might be easier said than done…”

Tikki pointed her red digit, while Marinette gaped. Currently Place de Vogues had more people than trees with fifty or so bodies standing or wandering around. Technical crews were adjusting lighting and mirrors to refract just the right angle from the sun with it being possibly the last clear day of the month. Camera flashes were going off at every random corner for practice shots and champagne went around afterwards.

Marinette’s eye twitched. Hawk Moth could hide in such a busy crowd. Adrien would be practically invisible, and she could pick him out of a line up of fifty near-perfect lookalikes. She trembled about to erupt in a storm of screams.

She exhaled instead. “Okay, just… ask around, see if anyone’s seen a gorgeous blond boy…”

The girl’s eyes wandered checking for the first sign of Adrien, or anyone related. She crashed into a scratchy wall face first. Scrambling back on her flamingo-like legs she babbled out her word vomit for French underneath.

“O-o-oh my gosh! I am s-so sorry!” Marinette bowed. “I wasn’t looking where-“

“What do you think you’re doing, you imbecilic little urchin!?”

That was when it occurred to Marinette, who she had the utter audacity to bump into. A skintight red dress with plumes of feathers escaping, tipped with gold was on her. It glittered as she turned, showing no other quality but pure divine excellence. Her hand, known to end the futures of models with dreams and passion with a single wave, clenched in what she guessed was pure irritation. It made her go pale.

She had the pure gall and the utter misfortune to bump into _the_ Camille Pernet.

“Are your eyes merely for decoration? Is your brain itself a figment of the imagination!?” She stepped towards her. The woman’s shadow was an all-encompassing trap nailing Marinette to the ground. “Are you simply incompetent beyond belief!?”

“I-I-I w-wasn’t… I-I didn’t m-mean to-“

“Do you have any idea how much this outfit is worth!? Of course you can’t, since it looks like you dig yours out of a dumpster! I may have to burn this merely because your putrid skin even touched it!”

In the back of her head, Marinette was noting how much she sounded like a grown-up Chloe Bourgeois. She could not be more grateful that spoiled brat was under house arrest. Her actions as Miracle Queen had been a step too far that not even Ladybug could pardon. When those words came from someone who had true weight in the fashion world…

Well, there was Audrey Bourgeois, Chloe’s mother. Still, Marinette was used to Bourgeois-brand abuse. The Ladybug side of her that was her inner optimism and compassion turned to maximum made her ready for things like this. Yet the continued stream of work and stress had still made mincemeat of her mental defenses. Marinette was trembling with every second the woman’s verbal abuse was spewed out. She was like a cannon, finding an unfortunate target and firing bullets of horrible words to bleed her out.

Pernet’s gaze shifted, changing targets, through her shades. She caught Marinette’s gift, the girl saw gulping. She snatched it out of Marinette’s grip.

“What in God’s name is this sorry piece of crap?” Penet said sneering. “Seems you shop and wrap out of a dumpster. There should be a limit to how pathetic one can be.”

“T-That’s for my friend… It’s, uh, a present-“

Pernet turned to her. “Is it?”

The gift in Pernet’s hand was quickly on the ground. Just as quickly, a heel drove its way into it, impaling the wrapper. Even quicker, it was shoved off and kicked into a muddy puddle.

Marinette gasped. She ran over and cradled the ruined silk peeking through the paper.

“That’s how you say ‘Joyeux Noel’ to your loved ones?” Pernet scoffed. “Do everyone the favor and dump that miserable thing in the Seine where fish can choke on it.”

“I-I made this… for Adrien…”

“Adrien Agreste. A guttersnipe reject like yourself actually knows Adrien Agreste?” Marinette found her chin seized by Pernet and forced to stare into her metal-like eyes. Her skin crawled so close to the disdainful woman. “Even worse, he actually consorts with rubbish like this?”

“Please, just-“

“I know who you are, girl.” A wicked smile slithered its way onto her face. “The winner of Gabriel’s precocious little hat contest months back. I can make it so your little foray into fashion ends there. One word to end your dreams, that’s it…”

“Ah…”

“You’ll be blacklisted, shamed, lucky to even make a sketch without being shamed into obscurity. How’s that, brat?”

“What the hell are you doing!?” A new voice shouted.

Marinette peeked past Pernet’s shoulder. Two teens, both slightly older than her, one with frizzy hair and glasses, the other a blond girl that was gorgeous even with a scowl appeared. The blond one looked ready to behead Pernet and only lacked the axe to do it. They marched up inches from the woman, ignorant of her status.

“Is there a problem, Ms… eh, Takemuki, was it? Sorry, I tend not to remember D-grade models.” She shooed her away.

“Oh, do NOT go there!” The girl shouted. “I heard what’s been going on here. How’d you like me to tell Mr. Agreste and my parents you blow off steam by terrorizing girls?”

Pernet spurted out a laugh that was unbecoming of her. In fact, she almost puked out the cackling that came after. “Is that supposed to be a threat? What makes you think daddy and mumsy can do anything? I have tabloids and the heads of the fashion industry eating out of my hands. If anything, they’re my adorable little attack dogs.”

“You’re kidding…” The boy said.

The critic’s hand slipped into her dress. She picked up a phone and twirled it in her hand like a revolver. “That goes for you too, you sushi-chewing bimbo. One phone call and I can ruin you before you even begin…”

“My parents won’t let you get away with any of it!” The girl crossed her arms firing back.

“Oh, please. I can take down your parents just as easily. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a long way from home…”

“What!?”

The two women were inches apart. Wildfire ravaged the earth in the sparks between them. It was silent warfare with their striking gazes alone. Marinette, blood running cold, had to take a step back. At this point, she was just looking for any escape route before getting caught in the crossfire.

“My word is as good as divine law…” Pernet whispered menacingly. “I care very little for imperfections…”

“Funny, because as far as I see, you’re as imperfect as they come.” The boy stepped in. “Warped, one might say.”

“How dare you!”

She quickly turned back, and Marinette found herself as the little fly caught in the spider’s trap again. “I’ll be making a call tonight; of that you can be sure. Now then, if you will excuse me, I have a few changes to make. Do NOT get in the way of my MakeLove time…”

“W-Wait!” Marinette called.

As if the French girl’s last plea was a trigger, Pernet kicked up dust in the face of her crumpled gift again. She rounded the corner and was gone, the air suddenly feeling breathable again. Marinette stumbled and collapsed before her now wet, torn, dusty, overall ruined gift for Adrien, picking it and pressing it close to her heart.

This was crazy. She had never felt so shattered, so assaulted, twitching and taking in one shaky breath after another. That was all she could focus on, eyes clenching. She was supposed to be the great hero of Paris, the invincible Ladybug. Hawk Moth might as well have won her Miraculous by default if this was all it took to bring her to her knees. She swallowed over and over and reeled in air, counting, thinking happy thoughts, whatever it took to get the negativity down. She would not be Akumatized over this.

She was good. A quick glance to the sky. No black butterflies in sight now.

“Are you okay?”

Her head jolted. The frizzy-haired boy from earlier was still there, offering his hand to her. Normally, she would not have refused a kind offer. Kindness made the world go round in her view. Things weren’t normal though, not anymore.

“I’m fine…” Marinette picked herself up and dusted herself off.

“Are you sure?”

“I said I was fine, didn’t I?” Even she flinched at the harshness of her words. “Sorry… I gotta go.”

She dashed out the park. The two teens followed her to the entrance, she saw. “Wait a minute!”

Marinette’s feet stopped before she processed it. The girl took in a final, calming breath, still wringing her wrists. “Just a word of advice. Watch out for black butterflies around here…”

With that she strode across the street the way she came. Escape was the only objective on her mind. In her current state she might collapse like a house of cards if anyone had pressed her any further. All those staying calm methods were worth jack-squat.

Tikki popped form her purse again. “That was much too close, Marinette…”

“Tell me about it…”

* * *

Marinette was nursing a headache and sore soles from running up and down the steps later that night. Her feet must have scratched along the hard cobblestone of their family kitchen fifty times. Kwamis could have stomachs like infinite voids even without making superheroes or supervillains out of a person.

She had pretty much raided their own kitchen of fruits and vegetables under the pretense of healthy foods nursed hearts on the verge of imploding. Now she was scavenging in their bakery for anything the kwamis could eat before they resorted to eating the bowl. Marinette was sure she wouldn’t have had such an easy time explaining to her parents her new diet of plastic. The girl yanked out her dark locks and clenched her fingers with the stands in place.

She settled for a few spare cookies that had been left over on the counter from the other day. The desserts practically went flying into the bowl clenched in her hand.

“Thank you very much.” Her mother’s voice called past the door. “Please come again.”

She flinched with the sound of the shutting door and the jingling bell. Her thoughts became much too focused on gathering cookies and dashing back up the steps. The store was being cleared of every dessert they had for the holidays and here she was taking what was left. She apparently couldn’t even be bothered to touch a button on the register.

She loved helping her parents at this time of year. In the old days when her life as a normal girl still had room in her forethoughts, she pictured families coming in by the threes and fours. They’d pay their fees and give donations and she’d hand them a box full of delicious treats made with every member of the family pitching in. Now her parents were baking on their own and customers would have to settle for imagining her helping hand in the now less-filling aromas.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, resident good girl, now swiping goods from under her own parents’ noses. Imagine that.

“Marinette?” Her father called.

The girl went rigid. She dragged her head through pressing guilt to see her parents peeking through the doorway.

“Sweetie, what are you doing down here?”

“Is everything alright?” Her mother asked. “You seemed rather upset when you came back.”

Marinette didn’t dare to look them in the eyes, fearing her heart would be squeezed of all the blood it pumped. Her eyes trailed over the splotches of flour stains on the counter, fingering the rim of the bowl in her hand. She set the bowl back on the counter and stood straight, wringing her head back from the storm clouds.

“Is it something you can’t talk about?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. It was harder to know what topics were safe anymore. “It’s just, what happened was…”

The talk went on from the bakery to their living room on the next floor. Tom had already locked up the shop, so they were free to retire for the night. Marinette had settled for keeping the identity of the present smasher to herself. No one needed to know how she nearly got burned getting too close to a star.

She was now settled on the couch with her father by her. His large arm was draped over her shoulder so gently. Wrapped in a fluffy blanket, the girl blinked at the mug of green liquid that suddenly came before her.

Her mother smiled holding the drink out. “A little tea. My nainai always made it for me when I was feeling down.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks, mama…”

Sabine smiled settling to her other side. Her father rubbed her shoulder. “We’re so sorry that happened to you, honey. No one should be acting like that, no matter what time of year it is. You could still buy a present for Adrien, though.”

Marinette shook her head. “No way, papa. I always hand-make my gifts. It’s just not special otherwise.”

“Hand-made gifts are special, but you don’t need to make a gift to show someone you care.”

“The thing is, I do…”

Her mother took her daughters hands in her own around the mug. “Sweetie, we’ve just noticed you’ve been working very hard, lately. Almost too hard. Maybe you should try to relax a little, to take some pressure off.”

“Right. Remember what I said about your apple pie and cinnamon flan?” Her father added.

If only they knew. Her apple pie was bubbled and burnt.

“I really am fine. There’s just a lot going on.” Marinette stood, letting the blanked drop to the floor.

“Honey…” Her father gave his rare stern tone.

“Besides, I’m already working on a backup. I spent all last night on it and it just needs a few finishing touches. If I crunch down, I can finish it and my school assignments and still get an hour or two of sleep.”

“A-an hour of sleep?” Her mother gasped.

“Honey, how long has this been going on?” Her father added. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

The girl flinched. The tea in her mug bounced a bit and splashed her hand, earning a yelp and a shake of her hand to cool it off. She turned to her parents; their faces were painted with worry. She hoped they didn’t see the few stray locks or the bags that were forming under her eyes. Honestly, they were right on the money.

“Really, I’m good. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I mean, if I had a tail, because that would be weird if I had a tail.” She rambled giving her most convincing perky smile and waving it off. “Doing crazy stuff like this is that little pinch of normal in my life soufflé, as papa would put it. I can deliver my gift to Adrien and we can all move on.”

“I don’t know, Marinette…” Her mother spoke. “If you keep going like this, you’re bound to crash and burn…”

Marinette glanced at her feet, biting her lip.

Finally, she sighed. “Well, I guess I can always mail the gift. Just keeping the pressure off, right?”

Her parents smiled. They stood and wrapped their arms around her. Marinette drank in their love and concern like the sweetest hot chocolate her father made for the holidays. Her dad was like a big marshmallow anyway.

Minutes later, she climbed the hatch and waved down to wish them good night. Once the hatch was closed, she guzzled down the tea and made her way up to the second hatch door to the roof. She had grabbed the spare gift for Adrien on the desk. A small pink box with a red and black-spotted bow.

Tikki zipped out of her pocket. “Marinette, I know what you’re thinking.”

The girl had made her way out into the cold night air. “I can just make a quick stop. It’s time for patrol anyway.”

“You should just do what you told your parents and mail the gift.”

“You know mail is getting slower lately.” She smirked.

The red kwami sighed. “If you’re sure…”

“TIKKI, SPOTS ON!”

Marinette vanished and Ladybug was left in her place. She swung out into the city for a routine night.

But nothing about that night would be ordinary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps this one up.
> 
> As of this point, we are now all caught up to the present, i.e., that scene in the first chapter where the Phantom Thieves make their announcement. For those that aren’t caught up yet, everything from chapter 2 to now took place over the span of a week and was the lead-up to this. Next chapter we should be seeing the aftermath of this and when things really start taking off.
> 
> This was supposed to be the original chapter 6 as well, but you already know the story from last chapter. 
> 
> Next chapter will be on the way. The fated meeting is at hand!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

“Oh my gosh, did you see what happened last night!?”

“I know! This is totally beyond insane!”

“They’re here! In Paris! They’re really here!”

“What’s gonna happen now?”

“They’re going after her, right? Shouldn’t somebody stop them? Or is Pernet…?”

These comments and more were heard on every grapevine Paris had, from speech in the streets to blogs to social media and beyond. Paris was now awake with the chimes of several million phone jingles, while every news station in the country was likely broadcasting the good word. It was safe to say no one got any sleep.

This city had been through more than its fair share of strangeness. If it wasn’t loonies attacking with armies of rabid pigeons, it was people becoming brainwashed to jam to hard rock or enraged magic mimes. Giant rampaging babies or wi-fi being hijacked by bad guys calling out heroes. Every Parisian citizen’s days were straight out of a comic book, and the weird thing was, it was normal, in its own way. Ladybug and Cat Noir’s exploits were just the everyday now.

The Phantom Thieves were the new spice of life. Something to make people scratch their heads and wonder about the future for once. They had kept their troubles with Hawk Moth under wraps in the world’s eyes, miraculously enough, thinking it would be handled eventually. That certainty now fluttered away.

It was driving a certain spotted hero crazy. Well, crazier.

“Argh, Cat Noir!” Ladybug furiously typed at her compact, eyes bloodshot. “Get your furry butt over here!”

She was now pacing atop roof of the Grand Palais. The stone might as well have had a groove now. People were gathering below in the streets like snow on pine needles. In fact, the snow from last night had went on into the morning. Ladybug hated the cold, so the low temperature was not helping her mood.

“Where are you!? She scrolled through her list of sent unanswered messages. “Ugh! Some foreign vigilante group is targeting one of the biggest names in fashion and he’s probably taking a cat nap!”

_*BING*_

A new notification. Alya’s face appeared on her phone. Ladybug gasped.

How was Alya processing this? She was the one who had brought up the whole idea of Ladybug, Cat Noir, and the Phantom Thieves. Fate must have been scrolling through her blog posts. Ladybug tapped the bubble.

_‘GIRL, ARE YOU SEEING THIS!? EVERY ONE OF MY BLOGS IS BLOWING UP!’_

All caps, as if anything else couldn’t convey the message. Excitement or disbelief, probably excitement, if she knew Alya.

_‘Uh, yeah. Totally crazy. I couldn’t believe my eyes.’_ She sighed, not knowing what else to type.

_‘YOU’RE NOT USING ALL CAPS! USE ALL CAPS!!’_ Yep, called it.

_‘IS THIS BETTER?’_

_‘OMG, GIRL!!! WHAT ABOUT THIS IS NOT REGISTERING!? READ THE CITY! THE ACTUAL PHANTOM THIEVES ARE HERE, IN PARIS!!! AND THEY TOTALLY JUST CALLED OUT CAMILLE PERNET!’_

That’s what Ladybug was worried about. For Alya, it was a luxury for the uninvolved, not that she could fault the journalist side of her best friend. Alya would give up an arm for a good story.

_‘I DON’T KNOW IF THAT’S SOMETHING TO GET HYPED ABOUT. And can we type normally?’_

_‘Geez, now you’ve gotten my hype levels down! This is super major, you know?’_

_‘You know me. Just super busy with everything.’_

_‘I don’t even think Ladybug has as much to do as you, and that’s saying something.’_ If she only knew. _‘We still on for the fashion show today. I know your number one Christmas wish.’_

Her face went bright red as she sharply gasped. It was only due to her duties she was here – how could it have slipped her mind that Gabriel’s winter campaign would be having a public photoshoot today? Adrien would be here! Adrien!

_‘Good. I’ll get the rare chance to see both of you in public. Catch ya later, girl.’_

Ladybug blinked in confusion. Where did that response come from? She inspected the chat messages and her face froze. The lack of thought in it all was what probably guided her fingers to type. _‘Yeah sure.’_

“Gah! Wait, what!? No, no, no!”

She hopped in place, caught between a Cat Noir and an Alya. Drooping, she ran a hand across her face hoping the skin would drag down with it. She cast a quick glance to the sky and surrounding buildings for anything out of the ordinary. The hero would just have to hope this all resolved quickly, without any surprises.

Catching the skylight through her peripheral, she flipped it open and hopped down. Camera flashes assaulted her from every angle and at every second, and a wildfire of screaming citizens rang through her ears. She gave a forced smile and wave, cursing her great luck for landing right on the red carpet reserved for celebrities. They all cheered for her as she made her way through the entrance hall into the main venue.

Ladybug looked around, keeping eyes and ears peeled. The main venue wasn’t open yet – camera crew still fixing lights and playing with special effects. The room switched between deep hues of blue and red in seconds. Every minute that passed came with a new song played from the DJ booth for testing. It was hard to keep her senses about her, in truth.

Yet Pernet’s voice was still clear. “Is this some sort of joke!?”

Her head snapped to behind the curtain. Even hearing that vile woman’s voice after yesterday was too much of an unpleasant jolt to the system. She jumped to the runway automatically and marched across to the end. Her fists clenched hearing sounds of things being knocked over.

She’d regained control of her thoughts and hearing moving behind the thick curtain. Pernet was there backstage speaking to the ever-stoic Gabriel Agreste. The hero ground her teeth seeing Silva there as well, panting through his nose like a raging bull. Mr. Agreste didn’t seem to bat an eye at either of their faces that were swearing retribution with a glare. She breathed out wishing she could say the same.

“Mademoiselle Pernet, I understand your concern but you cannot expect me to cancel the shoot now.”

“Do you expect me to carry about my business after I have been threatened!?” Pernet screamed.

Silva grabbed his scruff ready to rip his head off. “You pompous wretch. My goddess is in danger and you care more of your little parade of stick figures!?”

“What’s going on here?” Ladybug spoke.

“Ah, Ladybug.” The three turned to her. “Excellent timing. You’ve heard of the recent news regarding the Phantom Thieves, no doubt.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you have. No one seems to understand just what peril I am in!” The woman grabbed a diamond-encrusted cased phone and shoved the screen in her face. It played out with the engraved image of the jumbotron’s screen going red and the Phantom Thieves’ symbol splayed across it.

**_“Camille Pernet! The corrupt goddess of fashion!”_ ** _The encrypted voice shouted. **“You have used your influence and ‘divine word’ to destroy the dreams of young girls across the world for your own arrogant pleasure. We will make you confess your crimes with your own mouth! Tomorrow we will take your distorted desires! So says the Phantom Thieves!”**_

The announcement sent a frosty spike down into Ladybug’s back.

“Take my desires! Make me confess!” She shrieked. “This is a clear attempt on my life and nothing more! I demand you cancel this event! It’s as good as a beacon for those… criminals!”

“Ms. Pernet, this venue is guarded on all ends by my finest security for your safety.”

“How many guards do you think all those hoodlums had in Japan!? Now they’re weeping in jail cells!”

Gabriel swatted Silva’s hands off his clothing like a stain. “I doubt you have anything to fear. Some lowlife must have heard some off rumors and utilized a overseas legend to intimidate you. For some monetary fee, no doubt.”

“Are you sure, sir…?” Ladybug asked the designer. “With all due respect we should take this seriously.”

“I refuse to be cowed by scum who won’t show their faces.” Gabriel scoffed.

His bravado seemed more dismissive to her than anything else. “Sir-“

“What’s going on?”

Ladybug jolted, a rise of heat coming to her face. Of all the people to arrive, it had to be Adrien. The boy came to the group with concern carved into his features. Turning to her he gave a small wave which may as well have blown fire into her face. Swallowing, she waved back with a tiny, almost microscopic smile.

“There’s nothing to be concerned about, Adrien.” His father noted. “We are merely discussing security details.”

“You mean… because of the Phantom Thieves?”

“See!” A nailed finger was pointed Adrien’s way that made Ladybug burn inside. “Even your son admits it!”

“What say you, Ladybug?” Gabriel asked.

“Me?” She asked. The man nodded.

Ladybug crossed her arms in thought, her form rigid. The important thing was keeping tensions to a minimum, make a smiling, happy world with sugar, rainbows, and magic insects to fix everything. She kept a blank face trying to reign in her pupils from wandering towards any hot point that might influence her. Cat Noir was still nowhere to be seen, as well.

This was on her, like it always was.

“Well, in the name of safety,” she hardened her gaze, pursing her lips. “It might be best to cancel the show.”

“Finally, someone in this den of idiots who can talk sense!” Pernet flashed her arms shouting. Ladybug could have sworn, staring up at Adrien, that he had sighed a bit in relief as well.

“We will not.” Gabriel spoke, with no room for protest. “The campaign will go on.”

Gabriel wouldn’t budge – that much was clear. Reporters and colleagues knew if Gabriel Agreste wanted something, he got it. “Well, then… I can stay here and provide additional security for Ms. Pernet.”

“That will work well.”

“EXCUSE ME!? My person is being attempted on and you are sending some juvenile to guard me!?” Pernet shrieked. She was now face to face with Gabriel, ready to slap him. “I will not accept this! You will cancel the show and you will hear from my attorney about this!”

“Ms. Pernet, I assure you I can handle it.” Ladybug walked up to her, speaking calmly. “I deal with this all the time. I can keep you safe-“

“YOU!? You can’t even seem to keep my boyfriend from being turned into a winged freak every ten seconds!” Pernet jabbed her nail like a spike into Ladybug’s chest. She walked into the heroine, shadow looming, in a way that remined her too much of the same thing yesterday when she was just a helpless teen. “You honestly expect me to believe you can actually do the job I pay men twice your size and three times your age to do!? When you can’t even keep one person from getting Akumatized!? Go back to the playbox, you insipid little brat!”

“That was completely uncalled for, ma’am!” Adrien protested.

Pernet scoffed and walked away with Silva on her tail. She made sure Ladybug had gotten a taste of her feather boa. “This is why I don’t work with children. If anything happens to me, your incompetence will be to blame, girl.”

Her fists clenched.

Incompetence? She didn’t need anyone to tell her that.

She showed nothing to anyone who might have been watching. The Agrestes had left as well, she knew that much. She was putting on an act for only the fates. The fates that saw fit to remind her that for everything she had done, she was still a girl playing dress-up.

Memories came like a harsh blizzard in her head, of every time she’d failed. Every time she blew it or made a mistake that cost someone something. The whole reason she was in this mess was because of a lapse in judgment that cost someone everything. Paris was relying on a hopeless klutz that could not even catch one little criminal, no matter how much she could sweep damage under the rug. Now she was reduced to the role of hired security against some invisible vigilante group and she wasn’t even doing that right.

Master Fu could tell her what to do. He always knew what to do, knew the Miraculous inside and out. Some ancient proverb or magical trick to fix everything. Why did she have to blow it and let him lose his memory?

She flung back the drapes and stepped into the hall after Pernet. She did not like that woman. In fact after the two days she had been near her, a restraining order was not out of the question. Still, a superhero’s duty was to protect, not to judge like these Phantom Thieves. Ladybug was everybody’s hero, even when they did not want her to be.

The heroine moved down the winding hall, feeling her skin crawl at the thought of Pernet being near. Follow the sound of shrieking or glitter on the floor and surely, she’d be there. She let out a sigh and wiped her face clean of emotion.

But by the next turn, everything began to shift.

Ladybug gasped, stepping back. She watched wide-eyed as solid shapes began to melt and churn around her. A whimper escaped her lips.

What was going on?

* * *

_“Your first photoshoot! I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m so happy for you, Ann.”_

_“Thanks. You know, you’re a big part of my being here, Shiho.”_

_It was late the night before, just after the announcement was made. Ann was gazing out along the Paris skyline, seeing it live up to its moniker as the City of Lights. Her self-reminder to call her old friend had been washed up between Palace investigation and things moving along with the shoot. Shiho was never one to hold grudges, thankfully._

_“You got yourself there. And… you know what you have to do, right?”_

_“I haven’t forgotten. I just wish you could be here with me.”_

_Shiho laughed on the other end. “I’m doing okay. I’m working hard to get back into volleyball. I wasn’t going to be kept down forever, you know. I can’t let you keep showing me up.”_

_Ann couldn’t help but beam at her friend’s strength. “It’s a model’s job to show off, you know!”_

_They both laughed._

_“Ann… do your best.”_

_“Of course.”_

* * *

“Say what!?” Ann yelled.

The shout bounced off the walls of her dressing room. It made the bouquets of flowers quiver slightly, as if frightened by her red-faced outburst. The overhead lights were turned down low while as her friends pressed along the walls of her trailer to muffle the sound with her bodies.

“What do you mean I can’t go with you!?” Ann yelled. “We have to go into the Palace today!”

“Ann, please listen.” Makoto spoke, placing her hands on the model’s shoulders. “I don’t like the idea of dividing our forces any more than you, but we don’t have much of an alternative.”

“Our time in Pernet’s Palace was limited to a certain amount of time each day.” Yusuke added clutching his folded arms. “We miscalculated in accordance with that.”

“You can’t miss your first shoot.” Akira finalized.

Before they had known it, the week had passed. The pressure had been off with the lack of a deadline or threat but Ann’s work in conjunction with days of times Phantom Thief work had messed with their heads. They’d all gone pale and slapped their own faces realizing they’d backed themselves into a corner with that announcement.

“Yup, epic fail on our part.” Futaba shook her head.

“It’s as you said, Lady Ann. The Treasure has materialized now thanks to our announcement, but it will only last until the end of the day.” Morgana explained. “Once the day’s over the effect will disappear and we won’t be able to do it again.”

“We need to take the Treasure now.” Makoto said.

“Fine! So let’s-“

“You need to remain here. You can’t risk skipping out on your first major photoshoot.”

“We’ll just make it quick!” Ann stepped forward. “I can take out that glitter-coated goddess wannabe in a second!”

“Speed runs are out.” Futaba noted. “Palace rulers are boss-level. That’s not the kind of thing you can set records doing. Least without cheat codes, anyway.”

Ann’s nails dug into the magazine at the side of her table, crumpling the pages in hand. The critic’s face on the front cover was torn through. A growl escaped her bared teeth causing the others to flinch.

“Please, Ann. It’s not like we want to leave you behind. This is simply the only solution we have now.” Haru reasoned.

“But I am getting left behind. The simple fact is I can’t go, right!?” Ann seethed. “Meanwhile all of you will be in there facing her Shadow and fighting for your lives while I strut on a catwalk and look pretty!”

Morgana cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure you would look ravishing, Lady Ann-“

“This isn’t funny! How am I supposed to waste time here while you guys and so many other people are in trouble!?” She shot her head up to them, the buds of tears beginning to form on the rims of her eyes. “The whole reason I am a Phantom Thief is because I couldn’t leave people to suffer in silence! I am not going to ignore anyone in need again!”

The walls buzzed with her shout. Damn it all whether anyone heard her or not. She couldn’t care less after the images of her best friend on a stretcher, covered in bruises and fading between worlds came into her head. She did not need to look strong. She needed to be strong.

“So that’s how you wanna help? By rushing in?”

Ann turned to Ryuji. The blond, who had been leaning uncharacteristically silent at the end of the room, finally spoke.

“Are you for real?” He fumed stalking forward. “You wanna throw your shot at bein’ a model away over some pompous bitch!?”

“It’s not like that! I’m not throwing anything away!”

“Like hell you aren’t! You think it’ll feel good now, but it’ll all come crashing down before you know it!” Ryuji stared her down, an inch apart from her face. “That’s what it boils down to: one second of relief versus a lifetime of regret! Take it from someone who’s been there – all you’ll be doin’ is letting down the people that matter most! You want that? Huh!?”

Ann flinched back, fingers brushing along the top of a magazine beneath the first and pulling it out. The cover caught her eye – a young blond, smiling, confident, gorgeous, and ready to punch a messed-up world in its face. She’d look every girl who saw that cover in the eye and ask why they weren’t taking a swing themselves. Nothing was stopping them.

“I don’t want to let anyone down. It just… seems like I’m doing that either way.”

She looked to the mirror. Her gaze gravitated away from her own reflection to Ryuji, a burning glare on his features, just behind her. The force was like an intense magnet.

“It comes down to what you wanna do and what you have to do.” He stuffed his arms in his pockets looking away.

A broad-chested, mop-haired shadow loomed over the two of them in the mirror. How could she forget? Ryuji had faced down that same demon and came out with a broken leg, broken friendships, broken dreams, on top of his already broken life. Their reflections reverted to a girl with a lonely look shifting between people like predators and a black-haired boy with bruises fresh out of the principal’s office. The delinquent and the doll, swallowed by rumors, sullen beyond words. To this day, neither of them had forgotten their hatred for that smug, perverted monster for wrecking what might have been.

Ann snorted. “Geez, do you always have to be so loud? And don’t even try to sound cool.”

“Ah, shut up.”

She looked up again and saw herself today, in a sparkling red winter jacket and designer jeans with her blond friend right behind her. It was pointless inspecting for glimpses of what-ifs. That self-proclaimed goddess who now had a target on her back was already far in the background, invisible. All that was left was them, herself.

“You win.” Ann huffed. “But you better give that lady some real hell for me.”

Ryuji smirked. “Like I need you to tell me that. This’ll be a cinch.”

She shrugged. Always so mouthy. “…Thanks, Ryuji.”

Akira came up, his hand placed on Ryuji’s shoulder. “Alright. How about this? Ryuji, Morgana, and I will go into the Palace with Futaba as support. Everyone else will stay here and keep the heat off.”

“Wait,” Haru piped up. “You want us to stay behind as well?”

“No, it’s a good idea.” Makoto murmured. “The more of us that go, the more it might attract attention. It won’t look as suspicious if a few of us are here to support Ann.”

Right. What was she worried about? Her friends had it all figured out. This team had managed to save Japan from a potential dictator moving money and bodies from the shadows as well as an evil god. Pernet by comparison was little more than a house pest.

“Our infiltration point has already been secured.” Morgana noted. “We should be good, even with the time limit.”

“The rest of us can move in as well, if anything happens.” Yusuke supplied.

“Don’t worry, Lady Ann. For you, I will scratch that wicked fiend Pernet into total submission!”

Their leader’s mouth tilted into a smirk. The infiltration team was the first to walk out the trailer door. The had rounded a corner to where she was sure no one would see them. They would be back in an hour or two, ready to tell embellished tales of the Phantom Thieves’ latest win. Maybe they could answer lingering questions as well.

“Well then, shall we?” Haru asked.

Ann gave a smile and nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. This would burn, this would eat away at her insides and inflame her throat for nights after. She stepped out of the trailer following the others to the set, tall and proud with eyes to the sky. In moments she’d be on a world stage with Shiho and millions of others watching her every move.

The young model swore she would be a light for the people of the world.

Time to shine.

* * *

Adrien fit the dress jacket on his form, tugging at the collar. No matter how many times he packed himself into these iron-pressed designer outfits, it still made him feel thin as paper. He gave his blond locks a comb over as was pre-show ritual for him and let out a sigh.

He took his phone from the side table and began to scroll through the school updates. Francois Dupont would likely be neck-deep in holiday and end-of-year events, and he’d be spending his Christmas sitting in his room and/or strutting down a catwalk with disorienting camera flashes as usual. It was cheap compensation, but he looked at the student posts on the social media page and feigned phantom calls of laughter in his head.

It would be the good kind of normal, something to take his head away from this crazy campaign and the appearance of the Phantom Thieves. The smile forced its way to his face.

His finger froze somewhere down the page. The poster for the scholastic decathlon. Again.

“You can take the boy out of school, but you can’t take the school ot of the boy.” Plagg said popping out.

“The first part’s definitely true.”

“I’d like to work on the second part.”

“Unless there’s cheese involved, you don’t really work.”

“True enough.” Plagg yawned. “Just think of it as a vacation…”

Irony struck Adrien’s head like a ton of bricks and a sledgehammer for good measure. What vacation involved vigilantes, enraged villains and girl troubles? His father welcomed the opportunity to get more done and his mother could never sit still for too long when the family had gone on luxury trips. In fact most of his family was like that. Burn the midnight oil, that was the Agreste family motto, for however many midnights it could take.

“School kinda is my vacation, Plagg. I get to see my friends there…” Adrien spoke zooming into the poster. “Not much chance of that right now. It’s like I’m back to square one.”

“Eh. Everyone loves a good board game.”

A crash came from outside. Both boy and kwami jumped.

Adrien flung open the door. People were running, screaming, from barrages of bladed feathers. A set of lights crashed to the ground, shattering. He gasped looking upward.

Archangel was back in all his golden glowing fury. “Where are you, Phantom Thieves!? COME OUT SO I CAN SKEWER YOU!”

“This guy definitely needs a vacation…” Adrien muttered.

He leapt down the steps and slid to the back of his trailer. People continued to run past, too lost in panic to notice even a celebrity slip away. Adrien poked his head, nearly losing a slab of skin from a shot feather.

“Guess you’re not getting downtime after all. Bummer…” Plagg muttered.

But Adrien paid no mind. He looked up to the rafters, the skylights, anywhere high enough to warrant a dramatic arrival. She was still here, wasn’t she? She’d obviously be upset after that tirade from Pernet but she wouldn’t forsake someone in need. She was just perfect that way. Her perfect timing was suffering right now, though.

“Where are you, Ladybug…?”

* * *

Ladybug’s eyes fluttered open. They fought against the unbearable sheen all around her.

Her eyelids roared open with an animal-like strength, charging like a lighting bolt down the rest of her body. Her cheek and hands dragged against a floor as smooth as silk, a floor of something like glass. Her sight and senses finally caught up with her, causing her to double take at the ornate ground with golden rims and layers of cloud beneath.

Her head turned and all around her were signs that she was no longer in the Grand Palais. Every speck of white was no more, replaced with a pristine gold with an assault of radiance. The walls of the hallway she once stood in were gone as if torn away by the brick and mortar to expose the vast expanse of warm sky with sunshine rippling on every edge of the angelic, curving structures around her. Its beauty was eerie, a perfection that could only be what it was. There was no sense of life or compassion. In fact, foreboding feelings of animosity moaned and echoed the more she stared at it.

She would have stared more and lost the last of her nerve when two beings came floating to her. She jumped back, thankfully still in costume. They weren’t Archangel but their faceless masks and silver, sharp-edged suits of armor and wings made them good substitutes. Yet, how did Hawk Moth Akumatize two people? His Scarlet Moth powers?

“Identify yourself, intruder!” One of the angelic soldiers spoke.

“Wait, what?”

Its voice was emotionless, cold. No negativity like normal Akumas. Could they have been Sentimonsters instead from an empowered Mayura?

“We said identify yourself!” The second demanded.

“Uh, seriously?” Ladybug blinked. “You know who I am!”

“Don’t try to play games with us. You are forbidden to enter without the goddess’s consent!”

“Goddess? Are you with Archangel or something? What the heck is going on here!?”

The heroine was knocked down with a jab. She hit the floor staring to the guard with his spear out. The two angel beings loomed over her as she reached for her yoyo.

“This is getting us nowhere.” The first guard spoke again. “Come with us. All must receive the goddess’s word at the Shrine of Judgment. She shall pass heavenly verdict on your putrid soul.”

“No way!” Ladybug somersaulted back. “I doubt this goddess could be any more pleasant than you two. She can keep her judgments to herself.

“Infidel! You dare speak of the goddess in such a manner!”

“We shall teach you to respect the divinity of the goddess!”

“Ooh-ooh! Eek, eek!” She startled and turned in full to the side. A whole herd of gorillas had gathered on the outskirts of the scene, huddled together and staring at her with caution and a bit of outrage. What caught Ladybug’s eye were the giant white wings on the back of each gorilla that quivered as they drew closer together. Their meaty hands clasped together so timidly, but it was the last thing that Ladybug saw next to everything else, gaping with bulging eyes and jaw hanging loose.

What was this? Hawk Moth was getting downright crazy with these Akumatizations and Sentimonsters. But an entire change in scenery like this should be beyond the powers of the Butterfly Miraculous. Unless Fu had clued into things she never got the chance to learn.

The angels’ armors clanked as they raised their spears. “Surrender! The goddess will pass judgment!”

“Not before we will…!”

The formless voice called out, making Ladybug jump again. A black vortex appeared beneath the angels’ feet. A crimson-black wave rocketed from the depths, ravenous, swallowing them in between the fangs that appeared. Tendrils flew out as if seeking more to feat on, then faded. Ladybug stepped back seeing the angels’ forms go black and turn to dust.

Ladybug breathed out quick as she caught a green glow behind her. A whistling hum came to her ears, almost mind-numbing, like some alien creature. Turning around, she yelped at the sight of what seemed to be a full-out UFO hovering over her. She yelped again when it spilled a green light from beneath and out of it popped a girl in some futuristic suit.

Hawk Moth and Mayura’s imaginations were coming to be a cross somewhere between random and twisted.

“Ooh, a new challenger has appeared!” The girl spoke, the blue fires around her eyes reforming into a set of bulky night-vision goggles.

The brutish one in the pirate vest came close and inspected her. “This some kinda new guard or something?”

“I-wha-wait-who-“ Ladybug stammered.

“If she were a guard, she’d be attacking us.” The girl spoke again. “Plus she’s clearly out of theme with the heaven bit.”

“Is she a cognition, then?” The frizzy haired one in the black overcoat spoke. He was quiet but he caught her attention in an instant. There was something unsettling about him, about all of them really.

“Wait a minute… isn’t this that Ladybug chick?”

“Methinks your right. Score one for Skull, at long last.” The girl shook her head.

“Was that last part needed?”

“Why would a cognition of Ladybug be here in this Palace?” The frizzy one spoke again. “What does she represent to Pernet? I thought dudes were her thing.”

“W-w-wait!” Ladybug outstretched her arm. She had to get a word in somewhere here. “What is this!? Who are you guys? What are you talking about? And what does any of this have to do with Pernet?”

“Wait a minute…” Another voice, a new, boyish one, spoke.

Ladybug searched for the source amongst the heads that were slightly above her own. Giving up there she turned down and jumped at least a foot back. It came from what looked to be some cat-mascot, with a head the size of a basketball with open blue pupils inspecting her every spot. Its tail twitched and wagged, before going straight and bristling.

“This… this isn’t a cognition!” The creature spoke, hopping in what was easily recognized as shock. “This is the real Ladybug!”

“For real!?” The blond one asked. “Are you sure, Mona!?”

“I don’t make mistakes when it comes to stuff like this. In fact, I don’t make mistakes at all!”

“But how did she get in here?” The frizzy-haired one asked.

“She might have been nearby when you activated the Nav. This is the same as that other time.” The cat hopped in anger. It was almost cute looking. “Ugh! How many times have I told you guys to check the tools you use!?”

“Hey! It ain’t our-“

“HOLD IT A MINUTE!”

Ladybug was forced to scream to get their attention and stretch her arms out. It looked like it worked, seeing them hop back from a live wire. At this point, she was pretty sure Hawk Moth had little to do with this, or even anyone with a Miraculous’s power. Magical charms were a lot more straightforward than this mess.

It didn’t keep her blood from boiling at being kept out of the loop. Plus she needed to vent out from two horrible run-ins with Pernet. She had a lot to unload.

“What the heck are you people talking about!?” She shouted. “Palace? Cognition? Will one of you just tell me what is going on!? What is this place!? Just who are you!?”

The group of strangers remained silent. They seemed almost hesitant to answer. That was the answer she needed.

“Are you guys… the Phantom Thieves?”

“…There’s no time to explain.” The frizzy haired one spoke finally. “Just come with us.”

The strange group – the Phantom Thieves, she had to cement in her head – began to run from their platform up the steps to a shining infinity. Shielding her face from the glow she took a few shaky steps as she followed after them. The heroine continued to blink with every step of the way, trying to convince herself this was just some hallucination.

A public building didn’t just turn into the pearly gates and whatever lied beyond. This had to be the result of stress, or maybe this was some Miraculous power that she’d never even heard of – she still wasn’t going to count that rumor out. Whatever this was, it was making a mess even out of her enhanced senses. There were no cameras, no décor, no squeals of excited fans or overbearing scent from a million and one rose bouquets from zealous fans. There was the empty expanse and hum like operatic singing in this place. It was real.

This was really heaven, but she was far from dead. She really was here, but she was far from the rest of the group. She redoubled her speed. Those really were the Phantom Thieves, and they were far from off the hook.

They reached the summit and found themselves at a set of ornate golden gates with metal ‘Ps’ molded upon them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. The two boys pushed open the giant gates.

They now stood in a large rotunda over a glass floor with golden lines forming the outline of some tacky symbol of beauty. Pillars stood as tall as the eye could see, ascending into an infinite light that swirled and coiled back downwards in the form of a chain. Feathers fell silently, like fresh snow from the winter season, yet cold came only in the form of dread.

The chain hooked to a gilded cage, and inside the cage was…

“A person?” The blond boy asked.

“What the hell?” The girl asked. “That was where the Treasure was supposed to be!”

“So you are here to take something from Ms. Pernet.” Ladybug asked.

“Not the time…”

“Wait a minute…” the frizzy haired one gasped. “Is that… Silva!?”

Sure enough, gripping the cages was Antonio Silva, wrapped in a white robe with his digits sliding down the bars. His eyes glowed an eerie golden yellow and his expression was near blank, like a doll’s. He looked to be in a strange sense of pleasure, making no moves, no visible attempt to break out and taste freedom.

“My goddess… my goddess deserves everything.” He spoke in a warped voice. The uncanny resemblance in words to Archangel made Ladybug’s spine freeze. “I give my… my everything… to her…”

“The hell’s up with this guy!?” The blonde asked.

“What’s a cognition doing where the Treasure is supposed to be!?” The frizzy haired one asked.

“That’s no cognition either.” The cat creature spoke. “That’s Silva’s Shadow!”

“WHAT!?” The other three yelled.

“I don’t understand… how can someone’s Shadow be in another person’s Palace?” The cat creature gripped his head. “What’s more, he’s where the Treasure is supposed to be!? Is… Silva’s Shadow the Treasure!?”

Ladybug’s voice croaked. “Shadow…? Treasure..? What are you-“

“Yes… he is my Treasure…”

The ragtag team turned to ahead. Again the light blinded, and again, Ladybug gasped at what she saw.

A woman reclined in a luxurious throne, elevated to about their heights. Her skin, with all the smoothness and splendor of marble melted into her pillows wrapped in thin, translucent robes of gold. Her hands beckoned the rows of beings at her side with pristine, pale bodies of chiseled muscle and wings that spilled twinkles of lights, to kneel before her, purring at her touch beneath their chins. She stared at them with a serene contempt, almost expressionless, beneath her silky raven and golden locks.

Despite the dramatic change in appearance and near-gaudy presentation, Ladybug could tell who it was. It was so on-point it was laughable. Yet she could only stand there in dumbfounded shock, stepping back.

“Mademoiselle… Pernet?”

“Hmm… Welcome to my Palace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at the climax point of the first act. The Phantom Thieves and Ladybug have met, Pernet’s Shadow looms on the horizon, and change is a-comin’. As they say in BlazBlue, the wheel of fate is turning.
> 
> This chapter was written in accordance with my researched and conceived method for writing scenes. It goes according to a character’s outer and inner goals, conflicts, and any additional notes. I think it turned out pretty well since it allowed me to be a little more freeform with how I wrote this chapter. With those simple guidelines, it just came down to how well I knew the characters and they practically guided me in terms of what they would say and do. Aside from my usual gripes about prose, I’m liking this one.
> 
> I’m sure people will be interested and a little confused as to how a person, a Shadow, is the Treasure. Some of you might already have clues, but for those that don’t, I have left clues if you’re able to sniff them out. This is a mystery fic, still.
> 
> Next chapter is the climactic showdown with Pernet. How will our makeshift team fare?
> 
> Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

Every movement the woman who wore Pernet’s face made was a blast of chill down Ladybug’s body.

She slid from her seat, looking down continuously with those eerie eyes. Her steps with those golden heels clacked like thunder upon the floor. With the whip of a hand, her fan flipped open and the men at her seat snapped into bows while her sneer was covered with the feathered rims.

“Well, well… turn your back on these heroes for a second and look what comes…” The woman’s distorted voice was the hiss of a serpent and the song of a bird all at once.

“Mademoiselle… Pernet?” Ladybug whispered, eyes wide. “What are you… why do you look like that?”

“You barge in, with these thieves, thinking you can take what you please? Do you infidels have no respect for the divine?”

“Pretty big britches for a first boss.” Oracle noted.

Behind her, the Phantom Thieves stood in battle stance. Their weapons were raised, the metals glinting with anticipation. They looked ready to strike the woman down for the sake of whatever they were here for.

As if she could even make heads or tails of where ‘here’ was.

“What’s going on here, Pernet?” The cat creature spoke, the tip of his cutlass pointed towards her throat. “Why is Silva’s Shadow in that cage? Are we supposed to take this as a sign that he’s the source of your desires?”

Pernet strode to the cage, glancing at them in mockery. She brushed the bottom of the cage, sliding her fingers in between the bars. The being that looked like Silva reached to brush her fingers as if it were some impossibly valuable gem. Their golden eyes almost resonated in their glows. “Yes… he is indeed my… ‘Treasure.’

“But that’s not possible! A person’s Shadow can’t be a Treasure!”

Again with the weird terms. It was getting aggravating, in the heroine’s opinion.

“Who even cares!?” Skull cried, swinging his metal bat. “Person or thing, we’re still gonna take your Treasure! You’re not gettin’ away with what you’re doing to all those girls!”

Pernet snapped her head up and swatted her fan, tossing the very notion aside in disgust. “Please, there is no room in my divine realm for imperfections.” Flicking her fan she gestured to the gorillas as they cowered and groveled, daring to stare only at her feet. “Look at these sullied peons, flawed. Foolish. Pathetic! Do you honestly think they have a place among the heavens alongside me!?”

“So everyone is imperfect compared to you?” Joker asked.

“Not so. It is true that perfection can only be recognized by perfection. Perfection is what is needed to survive in this industry. The divine can only be perfect. Thus, all that I recognize must surely be…”

“Perfect. Right…”

“So, what?” Skull growled. His grip on his bat’s handle turned deadly. “You think you can go spreading junk and crushing dreams just pickin’ who’s perfect and who ain’t? Goddess, my ass! You’re just some spoiled rotten snob!”

“A snob!?” Pernet snapped at the thug-like rogue. “Insolent fool! I will teach you what it means to defy perfection!”

“Mademoiselle Pernet, please wait!” Ladybug, feeling sidelined, jumped back into the scene. She held her hands out as a bead of sweat crawled down her face. “This isn’t right. You have to be under Hawk Moth’s control. Just let me capture the Akuma and restore you to normal.”

“Those who do not worship my divine perfection have no place in the Kingdom of Heaven!”

“Ms. Pernet!”

“Guess we’re doing this…” Joker bared his knife once more.

The other thieves readied their weapons once more as well. As if naked in the room, Ladybug brandished her yoyo and twirled until the toy went glowing red with heat.

The woman’s fan dissolved into golden dust, swirling into wisps and clouds in flashes of twinkling mist and elongating into a golden spear. Curling her fingers, she gripped the weapon and gave a lashing swing. The men at her sides were swallowed by rays of light, their polished skins shedding feathers and spiling beams from every inch of their bodies. Ladybug and the Phantom Thieves squinted as they watched their human shapes melt away.

Still in the same ethereal glow, the men now floated inches from the ground by angelic wings as large as their own frames. Golden helmets obscured their faces as if denying any will or thought other than the enemy before them they now bore gleaming gold swords at. Smite who their goddess commands and they shall remain amongst the heavens.

“What is this?” Ladybug stared around at the suddenly evened odds. The boys turned soldiers now surrounded them.

“Such is the power of my blessing… Now, in your goddess’s name!” Pernet snapped her fingers.

“Makin’ your boy-toys fight just so they can stay in your good graces.” Skull growled. “You’re rotten to the core!”

“Careful! It’s not just special effects!” Oracle called from the back. “Those goys just got some major buffs!”

“Alright, then. It’s showtime!” Joker cried.

“Start up! NECRONOMICON!”

To her hyper tuned senses, the air around Ladybug, once dense and thick like swamp water, froze and shattered. A flash of light and flame came from behind her. Turning, she saw the tech girl’s face burning in a blue blaze, rising and pooling into a shape above that circled and snaked back to grab her in turn. Tentacles emerged, taking her arms, and pulling her in with a green glow into what appeared to be a UFO.

“Wha…!?” Her face froze in a jaw-dropped, wide-eyed, implosion.

This was all some hallucination. If had to be.

Some paranoid fantasy spurred by a bubbling mixture of overanxiety and one too many late-night patrols. Angels, flying saucers, talking cats, and the like. Even Hawk Moth’s demented imagination couldn’t churn out this hot mess.

The first angel charged. His sword tip jabbed into the shaft of Skull’s bat. The force had sent a crack traveling into the metal. With a grunt and a stomp. Skull shoved the guard back into place.

It arced and looped back for a second strike, baring its sword arm. The cat creature Mona leapt atop Skull’s shoulder and crossed blades with it. His own face burned blue the same as Oracle’s.

“ZORRO!”

The shadow of a brawny male figure coated in blue flames swung and zig-zagged his rapier. A whirlwind with green gusts enveloped the two. The angelic fighter teetered until forced back. They traded blows, cracking the air with the sound of clashing blades and sparks flying. Mona and the being thrust their swords, evoking a gust that pushed the enemy away.

“Not enough! Not nearly enough! Strike them down in one blow!” Pernet waved her staff again.

The angels raised their swords glowing a deep red. An echoing groan resounded, which might have been a call of strength. Gusts flew along with a rush of heat, like fire to the face.

The staff… that had to be the key.

“She makes her boy-toys do all the actual fighting while she multi-plays support and command!” Oracle called.

Ladybug shot her yoyo, hooking it around a column. She leapt and allowed the string to pull her, swinging her around and kicking an angel in the side of their face. Another launched their sword point, which landed a graze just as she leapt out of harm’s way, stepping to his face, then the ground. Launching the toy again, it hooked onto the shaft of Pernet’s weapon.

“Time to de-evil… huh!?” The heroine had managed to pluck the staff from Pernet and take it to her knee. It snapped like a twig upon her magically armored knee, but no black butterfly emerged.

She was left to stare at the broken pieces… even as the remaining angels honed their swords to her neck.

“SILKY! BUFU!”

A cannon shot of snowy air exploded by her feet. In the blink of an eye, a wall of ice had formed. The enemy swords were inches from her eyes, with fractured images of their wielders staring at her through it.

Behind them was Joker, with the fiery image of a woman in a tattered servant’s gown. “Don’t lose focus!”

Ladybug gave a croak in acknowledgement. There was more than just the slow chill of the ice at her shoulder running down her spine leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She swung back with her yoyo.

Looking back, her efforts were clearly for naught as Pernet summoned a new staff to take the place of the first one.

A replaceable weapon likely wouldn’t be the target. So what else? What aspect of her could Hawk Moth have inserted the Akuma? Nothing on her looked to be personal enough – no trinkets, no technology, and she wasn’t even touching Pernet’s robes. That left… the tiara. A crown infused with dark thoughts and sending them to her head seemed poetic.

“Yo, Oracle, for real! We got any plans!? We’re still on the clock here!” Skull cried.

“Give me a sec!” She cried. “Go for some debuffs! Can’t hunt to make it hurt less!”

“You call that a plan!?” Mona shouted near-comically.

“It’s our best bet! BICORN!” Joker swiped away his mask into flames, calling the image of a horse with massive spiraling horns. “TARUNDA!”

The spiritual steed neighed and reared its front legs. Heat seemed from everywhere at once as the angels’ wings drooped like cheap knockoffs and their knees buckled slightly. The horse charged and even rammed one in the chest for good measure.

“Alright, we got this!” Skull shouted. Now his mask burned away. “CAPTAIN KIDD! ZIO!”

The shadowy pirate appeared skimming a sea of flame on his pirate ship skateboard. It spun and glided, blasting bolts of electricity with a thundering roar. Explosions trailed the line of its shot and smoke obscured the path. But the atmosphere felt hardened, crystallized, as the angels emerged glowing blue.

Pernet was laughing as she lazily floated between them, smirking at the Thieves shocked faces. “Why so shocked? I demand utter perfection from those I deem worthy. Mere plebians like you could never hope to damage them!”

Well, not like she was about to trust thieves with crazy, weird, unknown powers anyway.

The woman swiped her staff again. This time, they glowed a vivid green, and everything moved at hyperspeed.

Ladybug’s senses went more acute than before, catching the ripples and shards in the air as if seeing the cells in her own body at work. Her body moved at a turtle’s pace in response, but the yoyo did the job of her own legs and pulled her away from an angel’s swipe. The Phantom Thieves joined her dodging the slashes of the angels, glowing red anew.

“JACK O’LANTERN!” Joker called a pumpkin-headed robed specter. Its lantern’s flame changed to a violet blue. “RAKUNDA!”

It shook the angel charging from above, but not enough to thwart the strike that shattered the ground where they stood.

“This is oh, so, enjoyable!” Pernet looked divine even cackling like a devil. “I daresay any further maneuver will be just as useless as your earlier efforts!”

“Ms. Pernet! I don’t understand any of this, but you need to stop now!” Ladybug shouted. “I can help you!”

Ladybug couldn’t help the stab that came even as Pernet cackled again, though a villain mocking her shouldn’t have been so effective. “You? The failed heroine? Need I remind you I only acknowledge perfection or the potential of it in others? You have to be the farthest thing from perfect imaginable!”

“I admit, I’m not perfect! But still-“

“Understand this.” Pernet flew into her face. Her hand caressed the heroine’s cheek, feeling cold and smoky to the skin, almost as if it weren’t there. “Where do you think the concept of heaven originates? The all-knowing, all-seeing, those flawless in entirety. The heavens exist so mortals can worship them. Pedestals exist merely to make people look upward. In this world, in the whole of society, everyone seeks to attain perfection, and adore those who embody it.”

“I-“

“People adore you, and only do so, because they embody you as perfection.” Pernet’s smirk crawled upon her face, cracking the very edges into a look of pure malice. “You, the blundering fool who allows Paris to be ravaged time and again, who can only clean up the mess but never find the source. If only we all knew what sort of jumbled mess lied beneath this silly mask…”

The rims of her eyes formed specks of tears. Air hardened in her throat just as she wanted to scream back out, yet not knowing what. None of this was anything she hadn’t heard from her worst critic, ever available in the mirror. Her earlier scream suddenly didn’t sound like the reassurance she’d hoped it’d be, but more of a crack in her armor.

Because the ‘jumbled mess beneath the silly mask’… had already learned so harshly she wasn’t perfect…

…So imperfect she couldn’t even see sword aimed right at her throat.

“ZORRO, GARU!” Mona cried.

“CAIT SITH! AGI!” Joker followed.

Plumes of flame and a wall of wind drove a thick line between her and the enemy.

Her mind came back from whatever dark closet it had been in and caught the gleam of the tiara.

“You’ve got an opening!” Oracle shouted. Joker had called a child-like figure with a blossom atop its head to weaken the angels once more. “While her soldiers are separated!”

“Kay! Let’s get-“ Skull started.

Ladybug had stomped on his face and shot through the gathered Thieves. The angels charged her one by one as she caught her reflection through each of their blades. She spun past one, leapt atop the second and dove beneath the next two. She rolled and cartwheeled, every thought beyond her own movement blurred.

She gave a grand leap, yoyo in hand, and shot at the woman. The tiara was knocked off and fell with a small clang. Ladybug landed beside it a moment later and took it in her hand.

“Time to de-evil…” She slammed the tiara down. It broke… but again, no Akuma.

“W-What…?” Ladybug gasped. “Where… where is it, then? I… I don’t know what to do!”

She was out of her element from the beginning. This was some paranormal territory only the Phantom Thieves knew while she tried to slap some sticker of familiarity on it. What was left if there was no Akuma?

Pernet’s angels gathered, pooing sparks into the tips of their spears. Specks gathered into a growing amalgamation of searing light. It fired with a deafening boom, and all she saw was the light… Until something knocked her aside. Her surroundings returned to her as she turned to where the sky itself had been burned where she stood.

Skull was atop her, panting. This guy, a Phantom Thief, had… saved her.

“The hell are you doing!?” He shouted in her face. “Ain’t you s’posed to be a superhero!? Get it together!”

“I-I…”

The rest of the Thieves joined the two of them. Joker’s shadow loomed over her, almost chiding her for vulnerability. Their gazes locked from his eye’s corner, yet he remained silent.

Mona was nowhere as such. “Will you focus? This isn’t an Akuma! That’s a Shadow!”

“A… Shadow?” She numbly asked.

“We’ve wasted enough time! We need to end this and take the Treasure before we’re ejected!”

She shut her eyes tight and willed her tears away. Weakness, ignorance, incompetence, the whole lot of them had their turns punching at her gut. She wasn’t about to give them an inch anymore. Rising on shaky legs, her fingers gripped her yoyo to the point she could break even the magic that shaped it. If she had to work with criminals to get a job done, so be it.

“I’ve got it!” A ping came from the UFO orbiting above and Oracle’s voice followed. “The pawns are impervious to most attacks and Pernet keeps buffing them! You gotta go after her to finish them all off.”

“I have an idea…” She muttered. Coiling her wrist she shot the toy upward. “LUCKY CHARM!”

The hearts swirled and gathered into its spin. A flash came, and out of it revealed…

“A… microphone?” She stared blankly at the small device in her hands.

“For real?” Skull asked. “This is, uh, your thing?”

This quirk built into her power could make her facepalm but never more so after the last few hours. For once she almost wanted some giant bazooka or anime-styled sword to just bead down the villain. Perhaps it was those few hours and all the emotional whiplash that came with them that was sending her wits on the fritz.

“I really don’t think now’s the time for an interview with this lady,” Oracle called. “We’ll be here all day.”

Wait… an interview.

The heroine blinked out the exhaustion from her eyes. She shot them open and everything came into focus. The orbs of light that remained hovering over their heads. Pernet. The microphone. The pale-face apes continuing to watch behind the gate. Oracle’s flying saucer.

“Hey!” Ladybug called to Oracle. “You can view images with that thing, right?”

“Uh… yeah?"

Joker turned to her. “You have a plan?”

Ladybug gave a knowing smirk. “Pernet’s so hung up on perfection? We’re going to give her the most imperfect up-close-and personal of her career!”

“I like where this is going.” Mona smiled. Skull, meanwhile, remained scratching his head.

Rays of light burned the ground surrounding them. Quick footwork was all that saved them from Pernet’s angels’ heavenly judgment. Joker leapt forward, thin and silent as a shadow himself, and burst into action as another illusory being formed by his side. This time, a fairy with fluttering wings that blew a kiss. “PIXIE! ZIO!”

Skull hopped into being himself, tearing off blood and skin that blazed away. “Got your back! CAPTAIN KIDD!”

The two fired twin lightning bolts that tore cracks into the ground. They struck the points of the lasers and exploded. She could see the angels’ bodies shake and grip their spears tighter as the blowback rattled them.

“And… rolling!”

From the wave of smoke came Ladybug with the microphone in hand. She channeled her best Nadja Chamack impression, breathed in and flipped the switch on her mic. “Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! This is Ladybug coming to you live from some weird heavenly kingdom with the goddess of perfection herself, Camille Pernet!”

Pernet pointed her spear within an inch of her throat. “What is this, Ladybug?”

“Mademoiselle Pernet, the fans want to know. What is the secret behind your keen eye for the latest model talent? What is it that is at the core of your search for perfection? Any special stories that have help mold you into the fashion superstar of the modern world?” With every question she walked forward, driving Pernet back with a blaze of journalistic questions. Her spear tip wobbled, unable to hone with its wielder’s mind spinning in all directions.

“Enough! I won’t have any of this!”

“Inquiring minds want to know! An icon such as yourself must have stories to share.” She channeled every scrap of blunt tabloid charisma and persistence she’d been it with in her own ‘revealing’ interview.

“I don’t share anything with the press!” She shouted. “Now begone!”

“Come on, Pernet…” Joker spoke walking towards her, taking her hand to his lips. “Won’t you share? Perhaps you might be willing to help a young hopeful like myself get his foot in the door.”

“Ah… well…” Pernet was blushing. She was actually blushing.

“Please, mademoiselle. How can I impress you?” Joker’s voice dropping to whispers. “Tell me what I need to do…”

Something told Ladybug the Phantom Thief normally had this kind of effect on women.

Seizing her chance, she thrust the microphone into the angelic woman’s face. She was like a child fighting back against vegetables on their dinner plate. As the fuzz of the mic tapped her cheek she doubled in her backwards drive. From her eye the angel soldiers floated idly by with no will of their own to act upon. They stood with the thieves watching Pernet back further and further away into the nearing debris pile.

The woman’s leg caught the edge of a piece of rubble. Her gasp morphed into a full-on shriek as she tripped over a broken slab while her other leg caught onto a fallen column. Her spear clattered as she raised her arms to purchase balance, but still ended up rolling into the thick and landing flat on her face with dirt instantly patched all over her outfit.

“Ooh, that was quite the fall. Guess the queen of perfection isn’t so perfect when it comes to keeping her balance.” Ladybug laughed looking up to the UFO with Oracle inside. “Or keeping her clothes clean! Got all that?”

“Every precious moment! This is hitting social media for sure!” Oracle spoke in between her own uncontrolled laughs.

“What!?” Pernet gasped! “N-no! No! This can’t be!”

Her angels sagged in posture, dropping their spears with their wings wilting. Their armors began to pale and their bodies lost that glow of myriad colors and soon the armor itself. They fell to their knees, going pale with faces blank as if rejecting any sign that their fallen goddess still sat there, shamed. Ladybug knit her brows feeling for them, whether they were real or not.

But looking back to Pernet, going pale with rage, she smiled. “These guys got their power from you, right? It was pretty obvious you could only hold your ‘blessings’ as long as you kept up your whole perfect goddess routine.”

“With that gone, you’re as good as nothing.” Joker finished.

“Gotta say, this girl catches on fast.” Mona mused to himself.

“Now’s your chance!” Oracle cried. “All-out attack!”

The remaining three Phantom Thieves were out like gunshots, darting and ricocheting between the enemies. Ladybug only saw flashes of shadows and glints of their blades as they slashed Pernet and her angels too quickly for her to follow. Black mist shot and arced out from their bodies. They ended their assault with their backs turned, as the beings burst into mist and black sludge before fading completely.

“Whoa…”

Pernet was the only one that remained. She fell to her knees, her golden garments dripping and leaking with black. She saw the tarnished clothes and shrieked, hiding her face and turning away. It wasn’t long before the makeshift team surrounded her.

“No. Nonononono… This can’t be…” She muttered near-hysterically. “This can’t be happening. I can’t have flaws…”

“It’s over. We’re taking your Treasure.” Joker stated.

“I can’t have a flaw. I can’t. I’m supposed to be flawless… I am perfection…!”

“Hey, moron! You hearin’ us?” Skull crouched down. He leaned into her face so she couldn’t escape the reality of it all. Reality being the key word. “It’s over. Fork over your Treasure!”

“Uh, you are not taking anything from this woman!” Ladybug jumped in between her and the Thieves who were closing in like wolves on a wounded deer. The tension of the moment jump started her brain and reminded her who was the hero, and who were criminals out to rob someone blind. “Try anything and I’ll lock you in the slammer myself!”

That’s what she was saying, but the beeping coming from her earrings might have pulled weight from her threat.

“You’re on her side!? In case you forgot, she tried to kill us just now!”

“I have no idea what happened here, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you harm a citizen!”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what kind of ‘citizen’ she really was.” Mona huffed.

“Wha…”

“Someone’s been pretty quiet.” Oracle noted nonchalantly, tapping her feet. “Isn’t this where you give us your whole ‘defeated villain’ monologue?”

Pernet had been silent, save for the ramblings that bordered on insanity. She peered at them from her now unkempt locks, her golden pupils darting between them. “Do you understand what you’ve done? What it means to shoulder perfection!?”

“Mademoiselle Pernet…” Ladybug started. A hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. Joker never took her eyes off the warped woman.

“Perfection is everything, and so perfection demands everything! My mother, my sisters, all paragons of flawlessness!” She gritted her teeth and scraped the floor. “Everything they were was everything that was expected of me! Perfection demanded and perfection took! My siblings chided me for any slight imperfection I had, every speck of a flaw on me! Any dreams I might have had, any relationships I could have made! All pulled away! Until all I had left was… perfection!”

Ladybug looked away. Aside from the familiar echoes, Pernet’s bio was one that would leave psychiatrists around Paris more than a little concerned. The textbook example of the strive for perfection: going on strict diets, grueling exercise, waiting hours on end standing for that next modeling gig. Photos of her were like that of many others, haunted, as if the only reality was on their phone. There were rumors that it was the result of familiar pressure from her relatives who had also made it big in the fashion industry. There might have been a grain of truth to it all.

“Was it so wrong to want some kind of meaningful connection!?” She screamed. “Surely there was someone who could understand my need for perfection! Who better than someone… perfect!?”

Joker sighed. “But he isn’t… is he?”

“Wha..?”

“Joker’s right.” Mona said. “The person who’s been going mad and attacking people. The man who you claim to be perfect. That’s not the real Silva.”

“Of course it is!” Pernet shrieked, clawing the floor. “He’s just the ideal version! The one who sees the world as I do!”

“Lady, if that’s your idea of perfect then you’re more warped than we thought.” Oracle sighed.

“There’s no such thing as perfect. There’s only what perfect is to everyone.” Joker finished. “Try and be that kind of perfect and you only get further away from it.”

“Those girls that you keep hurting who wanna be models? They shouldn’t have to suffer just cause you ain’t satisfied with you.” Skull added. “You don’t get to pick who belongs where, lady.”

The comment of girls suffering caught Ladybug’s ear. She turned to Pernet as if she’d become a monster all over again.

“Heh… those whelps don’t understand what it means to survive in this industry. Thousands of eyes ever watching, ever judging. They’re nothing more than parasites hoping to feed off the reputation of one who has had to claw her way to the top.” Pernet chuckled darkly, if not with a pathetic tinge. “Men… never demanded that perfection.”

A swipe of the air came. Then a clink, and a thunderous crash as the cage containing Silva dropped down. Everyone else jumped, save for Joker who had aimed a gun at a link in the suspending chain.

“You won’t be demanding perfection from them or anyone anymore.” Joker spoke.

“What are you-“

Ladybug croaked watching Silva, a near-zombie risen from the dead, gained that true spark of life. He blinked watching them and turned to Pernet, all in silence. He gained an air of disdain seeing the woman kneeling on the ground and turned away unwilling to even see her face. Ladybug gasped as the man became enveloped in a shower of light and faded from existence.

“Mr. Silva!” She reached out after him. “W-Where did he go!?”

“I imagine he’s gone to slap some sense into his real self… as if he’d want an imperfect wretch like myself.” Pernet muttered.

“Learn to live with your flaws… We all have to.” Joker said.

He made it sound so easy, Ladybug thought wringing her hands. Pernet’s strive for perfection was the human experience in a nutshell, a symbol of everyone’s quest for the same thing. She could live with her flaws, but could anyone else?

Pernet scoffed.

“Very well. I will return as well… See what your flaws bring you in the end…” She too began to disappear, becoming nothing more than sparkles to drift on the wind.

The moment she did, everything began to shake.

“Guess that’s our cue. We’re out of here!” Mona bounced shouting.

“Just in time, too.” Oracle noted.

Ladybug darted her eyes around watching as the space began to warp and ripple just as it did before. Her head felt heavy as if drowning, though she could just make out the forms of the Phantom Thieves running off, their forms quickly becoming lost in the now runny watercolor mass of colors and shapes. She held out her hand after them, feeling a sharp jolt in her brain as she did so.

“Wait! Come back here!” Her voice was random in pitch, shifting between a shout and whisper with syllables. “What just happened!? What did you do!? Who are you!?”

* * *

The clash of staff and wings came like twin swords. With the boost of force from his foe, Cat Noir leapt back in showy fashion. Archangel followed suit the opposite way with the beat of his wings, hovering over the cat hero. At that point, the cat hero appeared more as a cornered mouse in an eagle’s sights. It tightened Cat’s grip to where the whites of his knuckles could nearly be seen through the leather.

It was all too familiar a story – Silva got mad, the Akuma showed up, he turned into Archangel and started pelting metal feathers everywhere. With a concerning familiarity to procedure, everyone was out of the building, though Ann and her friends offered to help evacuate. Cat had protested but she only responded with a glare and a hand that looked to be restrained by some unnatural force of will. He gave no other word and stuck to the tamer beast that was Archangel.

At the very least, there would be no civilian casualties. Though as always, the surroundings were now shredded with curtains tattered, equipment sliced in half and chunks of debris falling at every random spot. Ladybug was nowhere to be seen, something that evoked a bit of sweat from Cat.

Where was she? There would be now magic patch-up without her, and people were never good at cleaning up after themselves. Mayor Bourgeois’ ‘Space Dumpster’ project was a good reminder of that.

Archangel fired his barrage of feathers. With lightning reflexes, Cat Noir swatted the projectiles away. “Always straight to the point, I see.”

Archangel snarled and rose, ready to fire every quill in those menacing wings of his, until… he stopped.

Cat Noir blinked. Archangel had frozen in midair, his enraged features erased and redrawn with an eerie blankness. He fell back to earth, and the moment he touched ground, purple bubbles enveloped him, tearing away at his villainous form. In an instant, Silva was back, buckling and falling to his knees.

He blinked at the hero, a dazed yet calm expression on his face. An unwitting victim in every sense of the term. Cat continued to stare back, silence spilling in a rare instance from his mouth.

“Uh… where… am I?” Silva asked.

“Cat Noir!” Ladybug graced Paris running from a random corridor. “What happened!? Is Archangel-“

“Milady, a pleasure to see you first of all.” Cat tried to sound like his charming normal. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“Focus, Cat! Where’s Silva!? And Pernet as well!”

“Whoa, easy, bugaboo!” He grabbed the frantic Ladybug by the shoulders. “It’s okay, everybody’s okay! I mean, I’d like to say I’ve got answers for you, but I got nothing.”

All they had was a wrecked building, an amnesiac Akuma victim, and their own wild imaginations to conjure up a reason behind it all. To be honest, they were not doing that great of a job. All the two heroes could do was stare at the aftermath of what was a very, very long battle finally brought to an end.

“Mademoiselle Pernet!”

They both jumped. Cat recognized the call of his father’s secretary over in the opposite hall. Her tablet had been tossed aside in an uncharacteristic show as the stoic woman held onto the fashion critic, now collapsed and unconscious.

* * *

Marinette sat at her balcony, reclining in her chair, and nursing a massive headache while looking to the stars. Both they and the buildings held silence with the pallor of uncertainty. No one and nothing had any answers to give her. Nothing save for the hot chocolate in her hand she had made herself to soothe her nerves and give the sweet taste of moving on. The blanket wrapped around her telling her the nightmare was over. The lamp saying enjoy the evening.

She wanted to talk to the kwami that might have had a more logical answer.

She looked to the little spirit that floated beside her, looking away every so often. Marinette took a sip of her hot chocolate and felt the wave of heat rush through. She gave no details to her parents or Alya who had about a thousand questions for her. She had just turned off her phone and her mind to anything and everything the second she got home.

As the evening rolled by, she had dared to look at her social media screen and see the chaos that had been wrought. Silva had been returned to his hotel where a million reporters were pounding on his door for answers and no one had seen him since. Pernet had suddenly been admitted to the hospital where the police were competing with the doctors for admittance to her room. No one had any answers for anyone. Not even Pernet, the target of… them.

The Phantom Thieves.

“Tikki, I know what you’re gonna say but I am not just going to put all of this behind me.” Marinette said staring at her reflection in the brown liquid. “Not after today.”

“I understand how you feel, Marinette, but there’s not much I can tell you…” Tikki sighed.

“So what happened wasn’t the result of a Miraculous?” The girl turned to Tikki. “None of Hawk Moth’s tricks?”

“There is no Miraculous I can think of that has any kind of power like this. The Pernet we saw there was certainly some kind of empowered being, but at the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling it was really her.”

“But she wasn’t even Akumatized! She didn’t have a jewel, or any kind of magic object!” She nearly spilled her hot chocolate but grabbed the mug in time. “Normal people can’t do things like that. And I use the words ‘normal’ and ‘people’ with that lady VERY loosely!”

“I know.”

“Then there’s that heaven looking place with all the angels and gorillas…”

“I know.”

“And those Phantom Thief guys! Those weird powers of theirs with the blue fire and the… ghost things!”

“I know!”

Marinette sighed. “Who or what are those people, Tikki? Can they really steal hearts? Is that what… they did?”

Tikki fell to her master’s shoulder in gloom. “I don’t know.”

She huffed through her nose, setting her drink and its useless sweet relief down. Every fiber in her was on edge, wore now that not even the ancient spirit on her shoulder had nothing for her. She settled on the railings and looked to the park grounds across the street. The streetlamps remained flickering while the odd late-night couple was strolling the grounds holding each other close to guard the late autumn chill.

That same chill rushed through her, slapping the blanket away and prickling at her skin. It was nice in a way, to have these little normal problems again. When everything was spiraling out of control.

As if to add to her bad luck, a black cat had stopped by her balcony.

An actual cat.

Black fur, radiant blue eyes, lithe legs that could have made it across the rows of buildings in a couple of bounds alone. It stared at her, flicking its tail to and fro, almost glaring.

The girl only glared back. “Great, the last thing I need is cats. Just go on… go, kitty.”

“I AM NOT A CAT!”

…. said the cat.

Marinette screamed. She screamed to the point all of Paris could hear her. Tikki was screaming as well. The girl’s back hit the railing and she nearly fell over. She flailed her arms for purchase of balance.

“Will you be quiet!?” The ‘cat’ spoke again. The cat spoke. The cat was speaking, talking, spewing words from its mouth.

“But-it-you-me-them-cat-talk-what!?”

The cat shook its head and sighed. “To think you actually seemed like you knew what you were doing earlier today. You really are an amateur, aren’t you?”

“W-Wha!?"

“Still the fact that you can understand me proves what I suspected… Ladybug.”

Her jaw hit ground floor. After so long, years of safely guarding her secret and dodging questions from her friends and family, a talking cat was the one to figure her out. A cat caught her. Life just was not fair.

“Marinette, don’t worry!” Tikki tried to calm her by running circles in her hair which her fingers were now in the process of ripping out. “It’s going to be okay! It’s not the end of the world! What’s important is not to pa-“

“PANIC! I have to go underground, set up a base in the sewers, cut off all communication from my friends and family! I’ll have to live life on the road eating nothing but hot dogs and tacos and change my name to Sharimette Peng and undergo facial surgery and burn all my documents and grow a beard! It’s over, Tikki, my life is over!”

“I’d listen to your little floating friend if I were you.” The cat’s tail flicked irritated.

“Y-You can see her, too!?” Marinette blinked. “Wait… you! You were that cat monster… creature… thing!”

“If you’re going to insult me, can you just pick one term?”

“S-Sorry… I mean, no! I am not sorry! I mean, I am sorry but not sorry and you should be-“

“Marinette!” Tikki yelled. “Focus.”

“…Sorry.”

The cat, Mona, sighed. “Right. Well, it’s come to this. Ladybug, we have some things we’d like to discuss with you and Cat Noir. Meet us at the Grand Palais at this time next week.” He then hopped off the railing to the nearest building and bounded across the rooftops.

The girl could only stare back at the little black dot, fading into the night. She wanted answers more than ever now. And she was going to get them, one way or another.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights to Miraculous Ladybug belong to Zagtoon, Method Animation, Thomas Astruc, and Disney. All rights to Persona 5 go to Atlus and Sega. This is my own creative work.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!” Yeah, Ladybug was anything but bemused.

If anything, she was ready to tear the upholstery in the couch she was sitting in apart. Her fingers grasped at the fabric and she could hear tears forming. The spotlight was practically laughing at her, beaming down, putting her on the spot for her latest show of incompetence.

She sat before a happy Nadja Chamack, waving to the camera and denying her journalist instincts to inquire, thankfully. Her suit and designer jeans looked so perfectly ironed and pressed – it was a forgotten joy to Ladybug to appear so pristine. Cat Noir was looking the same way, sitting next to her and giving a trademark wink to the fans at home.

“Welcome back to our primetime segment, everyone. I’m here with Paris’s superheroes Ladybug and Cat Noir to talk about the latest incident to hit Paris. Give them a round of applause.”

She didn’t even deserve machine-generated clapping. It had been a full week since her bizarre adventures with angels and phantoms. She had spent the days after scratching her head as to what had even happened, never mind the talking cat to wrap it all up. The heroine had gone through every scenario in her head of what it was: magic, illusions, some bizarre cosplay enactment, nothing that made any more sense than the previous guess. Her parents had been quick to note the growing bags under her eyes.

Then came that morning…

The fashion world’s jaws collectively dropped. The city of lights nearly went dark.

Camille Pernet came racing out of her hotel room, in cheap rags of clothing including sweatpants, and screamed with bawling eyes. They’d barely caught her stringing words between all the wails as she ran to the police station. She barged in and collapsed on the front desk, confessing to all manner of crimes. Her manipulating young men and women, pressuring people in high positions, and using some strange ability to control Antonio Silva.

Her image came up on the large monitor behind them. Ladybug’s face went rigid and she turned away at the sight of the woman. Cat turned to her and blinked, and she turned her head further in that moment.

“There were reports of such behavior, but it was nothing the police could prove until this incident.” Nadja continued.

“It really was something.” Cat shrugged. “Heard social media’s meming the heck out of it already.”

Right. Everyone else was treating this as the trend of the day. Her foot began to tap up a storm.

“Based on reports we’ve gotten and the matching circumstances from a while back, many people have confirmed that this was indeed the work of the notorious Phantom Thieves.” She smiled as if nothing was wrong with that.

“Nobody can say those guys don’t make a flashy entrance.” Cat chuckled. “I think they’ve left us all paw-sitively speechless.”

Both were smiling, laughing, no different than the hordes of masses that got a day’s worth of entertainment. The heroine had half a mind to scream and call them out, but she paused. That would make her seem rude, or crazy. Better to let the laughs out and cross the bridge of serious matters once they’d gotten their footing on the mood. 

“So we want to hear it from Paris’ top two heroes. What do you think?”

“Huh?” Ladybug jumped.

“Your thoughts on this matter.” Nadja smiled professionally. “Do you believe this was the results of the Phantom Thieves' actions?”

“Well… I-I mean…”

What did she say here? She had gotten the hang of interviews after a while and thank god Nadja wasn’t talking about her and Cat’s relationship status. This was business, pure and simple. She took her breath and looked back on the matter.

“I can definitely confirm this was them. I met with Mademoiselle Pernet the morning after they had made their announcement.” She spoke steadily. “I saw the calling card that had been sent. No doubt it was the real deal.”

“Wait, seriously!?” Cat blinked. “This is a yarn to me!”

“Were you able to see the Thieves?”

Oh, she saw them, all right. Ladybug bit her lip. The question was how to explain the heavenly castle and Pernet turning into a monster. Paris had its fair share of weirdness due to Miraculous and Hawk Moth, but this was too much. It wouldn’t convey much confidence if she had no clue of what happened.

“… I didn’t.” Her fists grabbed the magic-made fabric of her suit. “There was no trace of anyone.”

“Archangel showed up.” Cat shrugged. “Nothing a little Cat attack couldn’t handle. It was weird though. Halfway through the battle, he just froze…. Then he turned back.”

That was the other weird thing. Silva had been admitted to the hospital at the end of it all, escorted by the police and medics. The model had recovered around the same time Pernet had given her confession – at the exact same time, in fact. What made it baffling was that he had no memory of ever getting Akumatized, or arriving in Paris, or even being in a relationship with Pernet. His doctor and manager had classified it as amnesia brough on as the result of the incidents.

She didn’t buy that for a minute.

Nadja turned back to the camera. “For those who don’t know, there’s been a longstanding debate surrounding the Phantom Thieves, even in their home country of Japan. Some believe the Phantom Thieves are vigilantes righting wrongs the law does not catch. Others believe they are criminals causing chaos.”

“If I were a Phantom Thief, I’d want to be the good guy.” Cat chuckled.

“Cat!”

“What?”

The newswoman scrolled through her tablet. “But we want to hear from you viewers at home! What do you think of the Phantom Thieves? Let’s get our first caller!”

The screen behind them warped into a colorful mess of pixels that quickly shifted. Ladybug startled watching the familiar shade of her best friend’s eyes come into focus and snapped her head away. The journalist-to-be didn’t notice.

“Alya Cesaire, one of our regular guests!” Nadja clapped. “Good to have you back on the show!”

_“Thanks, Nadja!”_ Alya waved. _“Sup, peeps! Be sure to check out the Ladyblog, as always!”_

The strange thing was, the moment of self-promotion brought that tinge of exasperation that helped her relax. The heroine’s smile was a bit less forced as she and Cat gave their greetings. Alya gave a bright fangirl smile as always.

“So, Alya, we want to hear from the hero authority herself. What do you think of the Phantom Thieves?”

_“Are you kidding!? The PTs are awesome!”_

Ladybug could feel her eye twitch, a reaction straight from Marinette.

“No surprise,” Nadja spoke laughing. “Kids your age are fans of the Phantom Thieves overseas. They do seem to appeal to the young for the most part. What’s your reason for supporting them?”

_“Well, I mean, clearly they took down a bad guy_.” Alya crossed her arms, nodding. _“It’s crazy to think Camille Pernet was up to shady business like that, but hey, if you do the crime, you gotta do the time, right?”_

The eye twitch got stronger. It traveled all the way to her left foot, beginning to tap.

_“They helped a lot of people. I don’t think there’s any denying that. If you wanna throw a book of law at it, tell me where Ladybug and Cat Noir saving people from Hawk Moth is illegal.”_

Her foot was a jackhammer puncturing the ground at that point.

_“You can never have too many heroes, am I right?”_

“I THINK-!”

Her motormouth now had every eye in the studio, present and otherwise, on her. She wasn’t even sure where the energy for that half-response came from and she certainly didn’t know where it was going. Darting her eyes between everyone, Ladybug bounced her brain in the same way for a response.

“I think… uh… I-I think… you have… strong viewpoints?” That was her best shot? What did that even mean?

“Uh…” Cat and Alya were equal levels of confused.

Nadja cleared her throat and turned back to the camera. “Yes, well… thank you for calling Alya. We’ll be sure to talk to you soon for the latest Ladyblog updates.” Ladybug near sank to her knees when Alya vanished from the screen, her blood pressure sinking to human levels. “Now for our next caller!”

The screen switched again. This time, Mayor Bourgeois was front and center. Chloe’s father maintained the air of authority as best he could, but the dimming angle and tinges of static couldn’t hide the beads of sweat on his face. Ladybug cringed seeing it pool in his armpits and fought the urge to gag. The man was an official puddle.

“Mayor Bourgeois, an honor to have you on the sh-“

_“This is a travesty! An outrage! An insurrection!”_

“Uh, Mr. Mayor?”

_“I swear to you, this will not stand! I am the mayor of Paris and I will not have criminals run loose in our city!”_

“Mr. Mayor, if I could have a word-“

He slammed his fists on his desk. A few words had triggered him into the state of a raving, out of control wreck. _“What is there to say, Ms. Chamack!? A band of renegades who just jump into the city and think they can do the police’s work with their bizarre powers!? They are dangerous and should not be allowed to run free!”_

Cat piped in, scratching his head. “No offense, Mr. Mayor, but Bugaboo and I sorta fall into that category ourselves.”

_“Eh… true.”_ That little realization seemed to calm the mayor down, though it only sent Ladybug spiraling further. _“Well, they’ve still sent our city into a full-blown panic! Their actions on Ms. Pernet can be considered an assault. Whatever heinous means they used to utter that out of her, it should not be left to chance!”_

“So…” Nadja piped up this time, almost forgotten. “I take it this means you aren’t a supporter.”

_“Hardly! And I hope the people of Paris will remember who defended them from these vicious renegades come Election Day.”_

“Yes, well, thank you Major Bourgeois.” She swiped her screen and the man’s face was gone. “So, we’ve heard two VERY different opinions just now. But let’s hear once again from your special guests.”

“Wha-“ Ladybug stammered.

“We’ve seen firsthand how divided the public is on the matter. But what say the expert heroes?” She leaned in with rapt interest, her gaze laser pointed on her face. “What do you think of the Phantom Thieves?”

She froze, turning to anywhere else but the reporter. The camera crew and busy executives had all dropped their work to hear. The technicians in the glass overview above were standing over their equipment and staring down. Overhead, the buzz of the lights doubled in volume. Every speck of dust might have been staring at her had they the eyes to do so.

Every bit of tension she ever felt when doing class reports was there in spades. There was no right answer, no speech that could give her a passing grade in everyone’s satisfaction. If she sided with the Thieves, she risked looking like a sympathizer to criminals in the eyes of power. She called them villains, she’d be hogging the spotlight and shatter the virtuous, ideal image the kids of Paris held of her. Dissatisfaction was a rocky, downhill slope to disappointment, then to anger, and Akumas waiting at the bottom.

Whatever word would slip out of her mouth now would turn half of Paris against her. And the only one who could hand hold her to the best decision was gone, living in ignorant bliss. All because she made a single mistake. She was no heroine now, she was a little girl in a costume and on the verge of tears.

“Well, as long as their talk of helping folks is fur real, I think we can all chill.” Cat shrugged, leaning in. “Nobody’s purr-fect, am I right?”

“C-CAT!”

Her jaw dropped. Of course this clown would say the most reckless and irresponsible thing!

“Interesting! Are you saying you approve of the Phantom Thieves?” Nadja asked.

“Maybe a little more like-“/“That’s not what he meant to-“

A small chime rang and the theme for Nadja’s show began to play. They had literally been saved by the bell.

“Ooh, sorry folks! That’s all the time we had for tonight. Thanks for tuning in, and we’ll see you next time. As always, don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!”

Ladybug rose from her seat and dragged Cat by his fake black ear. The action seemed to cause him pain, the boy hopping on one foot and muttering all the way out the door. If he was lucky it wouldn’t be the last TV appearance of his life.

\--

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?”

The heroine had her partner forced to the wall in the darkest recesses of the studio, far from prying eyes. She didn’t dare risk anyone seeing and resurrecting dead rumors of their relationship status. All they had for spectators were broken and unused stage lights, wires and the odd pack of cleaning supplies. A crack from the nearby door allowed him to catch the blaze of red fury that matched the hue of her suit.

Cat Noir held up his clawed hands in meager defense. His voice was more like a mewling kitten’s begging for milk, rightfully. “Easy, milady. I just couldn’t help but notice that the cat had gotten your tongue.”

“DO I LOOK LIKE I’M IN THE MOOD FOR PUNS!?” She grabbed the boy and shook him by the shoulders. “Now people think we support the Phantom Thieves. That we approve of the actions of a bunch of vigilantes who came out of nowhere and did who knows what to a civilian to force that confession out of her!”

Cat’s voice wobbled like a pinball in motion. “Well, don’t we?”

She stopped hard. She gave a stare that could melt the wall behind him. “What?”

The feline hero sighed. “Okay, real talk. I wanted to help you ‘cause you were fur-eaking out over this. If I had to give an honest opinion then, that was it.”

“We don’t know anything about-“

“Bug, they helped people. You can’t deny that.”

Of course she couldn’t deny it. Because of the Phantom Thieves, girls with aspirations of making fashion had their dreams back and the means to achieve them. No one would ever suffer pressed under Pernet’s golden-nailed thumb ever again. All that they needed was hard work and motivation, rather than the miracles it took to break through her. As Marinette she had seen some girls and even boys Pernet had used hug their family and friends in relief.

She pulled away and bit her lip.

After a long pause she turned back to Cat Noir, as steeled as ever. “We don’t know if what they did had any kind of side effect. It might cause some long-lasting damage. The ends don’t justify the means.”

“So… you think they’re bad guys?”

“No, no I… don’t. I mean, they did… and they-“

“Let’s take a few cat-steps back. You were like this during the interview too.” Now it was his turn to grab her by the shoulders, and he could hold her down with the strength of a lion. “Is something going on?”

She ducked her head and swiped at her eye. Not even he could see her like this. She thanked the gallons of darkness in the rook for hiding her face. Though Cat’s night vision could easily have caught her movement. Sometime those cat features of his could be more annoying than useful.

“Look, never mind. I’m just exhausted.” What she wouldn’t give to crash into her bed and sleep the stress away. At least a full 24 hours of sleep would get her back on course. But reality wasn’t kind. “We can discuss this some other time.”

“Time to hit the hay, then? No moonlit patrol route?”

“And no romantic dinner at the end.” She shoved his face back when he was getting a little too close. “We’ve still got rendezvous plans, though.”

The boy blinked. “Huh?”

She sighed. “The truth is, we’ve been called to a meeting. I had a bit of an unexpected encounter.”

Cat flinched visibly, his ears pointing up. “What!? Are you trying to say there’s another cat in your life!?”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She took her yoyo and hooked It to the rafters, swinging up and landing atop the beam. “We’ve got ourselves a meeting… with the Phantom Thieves.”

* * *

After a series of bounds and leaps atop their sidewalks on the roofs, the two heroes touched base on the Grand Palais. Save for the mutters of a few random passersby and the odd passing car, the area was silent. Every light was out, barely any security guards around. The perfect setup for some kind of nefarious trap.

They had to be out of their minds to be doing this.

Being his goofy gentlemanly self, Cat opened the skylight. Sans the wide Cheshire grin he sported. “After you, milady.”

She hopped down without a word, and Cat followed. She caught his fake tail twitching with the shimmers of moonlight on the magic leather. Cat always walked the borderline between grudging acceptance and refusal when it came to secrets. She was blowing him too far in that second direction right now. In her defense, it was a little hard to explain that she interacted with criminals, and that’s once she got past all the other crazy things.

When Ladybug last set foot in here, she walked on clouds with gilded pillars of gold. Now her foot hit a marble floor with the crack echoing across plain stone walls. A prayer for normalcy was answered by the sight of the same large space for events. The same massive stairway and glass ceiling she had seen a bunch of times. Its plainness was divine singularity to her, though questions still rolled around in her head.

“Keep your eyes peeled. We don’t know when or where they might strike.” Ladybug raised her yoyo and began to swing it in defense.

“Should be soon, since, you know, you arranged a meeting.”

She shot him a glare. He huffed a tired glance right back. Submitting, he drew his baton and extended it.

Backs pressed and weapons raised, they circled around. No avenue would be available for them to attack. Both kept their eyes to every shadow, focusing so as to push them back and expose whatever might have hid there.

But after ten whole minutes… nothing.

The two stood upright once more as Cat scratched his head. “Uh, maybe you got the meeting place wrong?”

Ladybug shot an irritated glare across her shoulder. “One, I know this city like the back of my hand, same as you. Two, I got the location very clearly from the talking cat.”

“TALKING CAT!?” The male hero gasped. “Is there another feline in your life!?”

“In a manner of speaking…”

They both paused. Something in the air changed. A pulse that rippled the space like water.

Despite the similar surroundings, there was that strange sensation again. That feeling like the floor she walked on was an illusion as no sound came from her steps. Like the world around her was an elaborate painting with nothing to tell her senses it was real. Moments passed, yet the building, or the structure that resembled it, remained the same. Ladybug expected angels to descend from the ceiling for a split second. But the sound of people, even if only muffled before, had vanished completely.

Then a click came, and behind them, a wide TV screen that had gone unnoticed until now, switched to a static screen that slowly came into focus. It revealed eight bodies standing side by side, silhouettes against the light.

_“Ladybug and Cat Noir. Welcome.”_ The voice of the Phantom Thieves’ leader, if slightly disguised by technical edits, came unmistakably to Ladybug’s ears. _“We’ve been expecting you.”_

“Phantom Thieves…”

There were quite a few new faces, even if all were hidden in shadow by the light hitting their backs. Still, she recognized the four that she had encountered in that strange place. Fists clenched, she took a step forward and grimaced staring at the screen, knowing it was the closest she could get to staring the leader in the eye.

Cat took a much less serious approach. “So you’re the new cats on the block. Hey, there.”

_“Oh, a pleasure to meet you.”_ The girl in the feathered hat took as kindly an approach, even bowing.

Ladybug jabbed in in the elbow. “Cat!”

“What? No need to get our tails in a twitch.”

She dragged a hand across her face and turned back to the screen. “What happened last week? What did you do to Camille Pernet? And Antonio Silva?”

_“The circumstances regarding Antonio Silva were unique to us.”_ The short-haired woman with spiked shoulders spoke. _“As for Ms. Pernet, you should already know the answer.”_

“Right, you ‘stole her heart.’ What does that even mean? How do you steal someone’s heart?”

“Maybe the way you stole mine, bugaboo.” Cat shrugged. She glared at him.

_To be more precise, we stole the warped desires contained within her heart. It appeared at the time that Mr. Silva was the source of said desires.”_ The tall boy spoke in a cordial manner. _“Though as was previously stated, it is a new circumstance that a person is the source of another’s desires.”_

_“Kitty cat pretty much got it right, in a manner of speaking.”_ The goggle-wearing girl, Oracle, stated.

They thought they were superheroes, of all things. At this point, they were just playing mind games with her, and her nerves were taut and strained enough as it was. Even as she shot rapid-fire questions she was squinting, looking past the shadows and masks for any hint of the humans beneath. They had to be human, right? Though, given everything, she couldn’t even be sure of that anymore.

Ladybug took in air through every possible entryway. She blinked away the screen’s brightness imprinted in her eyes. Calm and cunning were the keys to victory here. She had to piece her words together carefully. “Alright, let’s try this again. What is it you’re after?”

_“The Phantom Thieves change the hearts of evildoers. We help the weak and crush the strong.”_ The small creature at the bottom piped in. Odds were high that was the talking cat, Mona. Aside from that, they either had a major hero complex, or it was only justification behind something more sinister.

“I’m guessing there are a lot of evildoers in Japan, aren’t there?”

_“There are people like that everywhere you look.”_ The girl with pigtails spoke up, tension growing in her own voice. _“People who do whatever they want, hurt whoever they want. They’re like roaches: you’ll find a swarm of them under any rock. They can be closer than you think.”_

She grit her teeth. They’d dodged the question. “So why come to Paris? Why now, of all times?”

_“There’s an important matter we need to discuss with you.”_ The short-haired girl spoke again.

“Does it have to do with your ‘mission?’” She crossed her arms and gripped them with the strength of iron clamps.

It was beginning to add up – good intentions on paper coupled with bizarre powers equaled those same intentions taken to a megalomaniacal level. They had no Miraculous of their own, that was established, but that didn’t necessarily mean a Miraculous wasn’t in play at all here. The repeated showdowns with Archangel might as well have been the perfect set-up. She’d seen people with pure thoughts taking it a step too far after Hawk Moth nudged them in the wrong direction, towards where his Akumas were waiting.

Still, if these were agents of Hawk Moth, it was strange that they were playing the long con. Their longtime foe would have just made an open grab for the Miraculous and been done with it. She kept her hands fixed on her arms; making a move to guard her earrings might show she was on to their game.

“Okay, people. Let’s tone it down a few degrees, shall we?” Cat stepped in with a wide grin on his face and a rosy tint coming in clear in the moonlight. “No need to go at it like cats and dogs.”

“Cat, will you please-“

_“No, he’s correct. There’s no need for all this.”_ The girl with the hat said. _“We called you here this evening because we wish to discuss the possibility of a deal.”_

They both stopped. “A deal?”

_“If you cooperate with us and we know you’re on the same page, we might be a little more willing to share our methods.”_ Mona spoke again, a taunt glistening on the tips of his small fangs. _“You’ve made it pretty clear that’s what you want. Don’t show your hand before making any moves – that’s the most basic of basics.”_

“They got you good, milady-tective.”

All pretenses gone, she clutched at her earrings and stared daggers at the screen hoping their gazes were locked together. “You can’t seriously expect us to trust you. How do we know all of this isn’t some elaborate trap?”

_“You can always walk away and risk another Archangel showing up.”_ Joker said.

“We can handle it.”

_“Can you?”_

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing!”

She shouted Alya’s advice, the words that had given her strength for so long, to the building, the screen, and the thieves hiding behind it. She expected it to rattle them to their core, to shoot some pulse of integrity down their spines.

It did not go the way she’d hoped.

_“…What?”_

The pigtailed girl was clenching her fists, her hairs almost bristling. She stepped forward, and even though the two of them were separated by a screen, possibly millions of miles, Ladybug took a step back.

“W-What…?”

_“Do nothing?... Good people don’t do nothing.”_

Whatever blind resolve she had crammed into her petite frame was gone. She watched as the flames began to flicker from the girl’s eyes and burn away at the edge of her mask. It was finally dawning on her that she was in the presence of strange beings with strange powers, a world unknown to her. A bead of sweat ran down her face as the blood drained and the room went cold.

_“I don’t care who you think you are, all you’re doing is taking down the baddie of the day in some stupid comic-book fantasy come to life. You don’t know the first thing about helping people in real need! So keep your high and mighty BS to yourself!”_

_“Panther!”_ Joker called out. _“That’s enough.”_

The fires on the other girl settled, yet she still focused on the heroine with a steely glare. The blues of her eyes became radiant, still lit with that ethereal blue flame like a lantern in the darkness. Ladybug found herself short of breath continuing to stare.

She shook her head and slapped herself. Communications were breaking; she had to compose herself and get back on track. The heroine wrenched her gaze away from Panther and turned instead to Joker. A poor move, as his gaze was just as steeled, even without the flicker of rebellious flames.

“Well, I mean, it’s just some advice I-“

“Uh, right…” Cat piped in, forgotten in the heat of the moment. “You guys… said you wanted to make a deal?”

_“Indeed._ ” The tall boy spoke. _“We’re quite aware the situation with Archangel was an entirely new phenomenon?”_

“Yeah, he just kept appearing, no matter how many times we took him down. He really needed to take a chill pill.”

_“Considering what happened when you confronted Pernet, there are too many foreign variables here.”_ The short-haired girl explained. _“We’d look into this ourselves but there is the chance this will bleed over and cause problems in the city. Our abilities have limits.”_

“That’s not exactly something you should be saying to a superhero.”

_“At this point, I’m not even convinced you’re ANY kind of hero. So. Shut. UP.”_ Panther seethed.

Ladybug flinched visibly, the jolt running down her spine like lightning.

_“It will be too much of a hassle for either of us to go it alone, so the best solution is that we cooperate on this matter.”_ The other girl continued.

_“So we propose a deal.”_ Mona added, crossing his arms, or paws, and doubling his presence. _“At least until this is resolved, we work together. You don’t betray us and we don’t betray you. That’s the code of the Phantom Thieves in these situations.”_

Ladybug swallowed hard wrenching at her wrist and put her mind to work. There was no way to turn this around and no way it would turn out good on any end. She glanced to Cat Noir, who only returned her look, the one of dependence. She reached for her earrings, then to her yoyo, then to open air, knowing not one would help her in this situation. There was no way to win.

No way… save for the least savory option.

“We can… do this-“

_“Can you?”_ Joker asked.

_“It took you guys a whole month just to deal with the angry pigeon. He’d still be slicing buildings if we hadn’t shown up.”_ Oracle went and rubbed salt in the wound. _“You guys are way too low-level to handle this yourselves.”_

_“Working together may be the only way we’ll figure this out.”_ Joker finished. _“So, deal?”_

She’d resisted, but it was to no avail. The least savory option it had to be. And who knows where any of them would be when it was all over. Too shaken to even consider her prior theories or summon up her courage, the word that sealed their fates for the immediate future escaped her lips beyond her control.

“…Deal.”

Joker only nodded, as the rest followed. _“We’ll be in touch.”_ With that, the screen shut off and the space returned to normal. Ladybug and Cat Noir stood together alone, beneath a lone beam of moonlight at the blank glass.

What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post the earlier chapter much sooner. Sorry for making my readers here wait for so long. As an apology, I'm giving you all a double chapter whammy!
> 
> The second part was something I was really looking forward to writing, but at the same time, it was difficult to think of how it would play out. After all, the PTs don’t change outfits unless they’re in someone’s Palace and the Palace ruler sees them as an enemy. With Pernet’s distorted desires gone, there’s nothing overshadowing the Grand Palais’s form. They’d just appear as normal. I figured they’d have to pull a similar trick to their mass media takeover in Japan. We can’t have identities spilling out so soon right?
> 
> Another part that was interesting for me to consider was that small clash between Ladybug and Panther. I have to admit, I didn’t really understand the meaning behind that phrase of Majestia’s: “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.” Here, I guess I just interpreted it as ‘don’t do anything reckless or that you might regret. Just live your life and stick to the right path and good will ultimately win in the end.’
> 
> That wouldn’t sit right with Panther. Persona fans and those who know Ann will understand the reason why. Besides, Ladybug is based off of Spiderman and as opposed to her, that guy has MORE than his fair share of critics (looking at you, JJ). It does go into her character arc, but aside from that, I think its pretty unrealistic that she could go this long without public criticism.
> 
> And for those who are asking about the sequel to my Skylanders Academy story, I hear you. In fact, that’s my reason for being so late with this chapter – I am working on it. I just had notes on it before, but then I lost those notes and now I’m having to set up the storyline and the character arcs and all that jazz all over again. You just need a little time for story ideas to stew and to gain reference to build a decent plot, am I right?
> 
> Anyway, that might be it for updates on this one for a while. I set myself so I can work on updating other stories once I got past this chapter for TYH. We’ll see which one I want to work on. 
> 
> Oy, I do too much.

**Author's Note:**

> It took a little longer than expected, but I finally got this first chapter up! The first piece to my first crossover! Getting this up got delayed a little bit between work, video games, and getting back into another fandom at the time. 
> 
> First chapters are always the most difficult to write for a lot of reasons, but I hope this one works out. This story will be posted on both Fanfiction and Archive of Our Own since my account there has been all but neglected. Feel free to post comments or reviews or ask questions about the story or writing in general – I like sharing what I’ve learned so people will hopefully be inspired to write really good stories. I can’t give any spoilers as to the story and I don’t take requests for story ideas though as I’ve got a plotline going already.


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